


Cut up my Heart

by issabella



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Charles flirts shamelessly, Cooking, Developing Relationship, Erik has a troubled past, Erik is a fanboy, Erik is angsting, Fluff, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Roleplay, Spanking, TV - Chef Charles, Top Charles, assorted XMFC Characters as side Characters, authority kink, inspired by James McAvoy as Joe Macbeth, inspired by starrose's gifs, mentions of Magda and Anya in Erik's past, mild food play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:22:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 83,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is smitten by TV-Chef Charles Xavier. Soon he gets the opportunity to see him live, as Erik takes his mother to a recording of the show. And of all the people in the audience Charles Xavier chooses Erik to be his assistant for the day. And this is only the start...<br/>Inappropriate flirting, relationship issues, top!Charles and emotional wounded Erik ahead.</p><p>Now with Epilogue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of Starrose17's gifset posts on Tumblr: http://starrose17.tumblr.com/post/36472965551/tv-chef-james
> 
> And I blame Ohteepeeh for making me pursue this fic in earnest. So this is for you, my precioussssssssss! ;)
> 
> Not an english native speaker, so excuse any mistakes, or better still, please feel free to point them out to me.  
> ###  
> [flightowl98](http://archiveofourown.org/users/flighthowl98/pseuds/flighthowl98) is so kind and translates the fic into Chinese. YOu can find the translation here: http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=128818 &  
> http://xmenschool.net/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=796

 

 

Erik stared mesmerized at the screen of his TV. He had completely forgotten about the onion and knife in his hands.

His mother had been all enthusiastic about this new cooking program on TV. She practically had pestered him into watching it and trying one of the recipes presented there. She just had forgotten to mention the presenter was so - so edible himself.

Erik's gaze kept shifting between the man's mouth and his hands and forearms. There were cuts and burn-marks on there, but that didn't make them look less enticing. He just could imagine those hands reaching out for him, pushing him back onto the bed...

"...go wild for it."

Erik felt his face grow hot. That voice with the British accent was doing things to him. He watched as the corners of the guy's mouth turned up in a smile and a mischievous grin lit his eyes. He used his hand holding a knife to point straight at the camera... at Erik.

"And I want you."

What? What! He must have misheard. His heart had started beating quickly... then he realized the guy had picked an elderly woman from the audience present in the TV-studio they were recording, to be his assistant.

He felt an odd twinge of - regret?

Vehemently Erik shook his head. He was NOT developing a crush on a guy from a cooking show. He was not... Erik wondered if where they recorded that show.

Perhaps he could take his mother, since Edie seemed to like that cooking show so much...

Erik drifted from the cooking aisle over to his couch-table to turn on his laptop and investigate. His gaze never leaving the TV-screen, he only realised as he wanted to turn on the laptop, that he still held the knife and onion in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik started to regret his idea.

He sat on an uncomfortable plastic seat, the studio lights were beating mercilessly down

on him and some woman with a clipboard was giving the audience – all women – except from him – a short briefing of what would happen and what was expected of them during the show. Including a lecture to 'please not leave their seats'. There would be an opportunity to meet the chef and get his books signed after the show.

 

Erik tried to sink in on himself and make himself smaller. He felt terrible out of place.

 

If it weren't for his mother, he would have probably turned around and fled right before entering the studio. He looked at Edie right beside him. At least he had a reason to be here. Accompanying his mother. It was not as if he had any greater interest in being here. Just doing his sonly duty here. He was not here to see that impish smile formed by red lips in real life. To hear that voice without any distortion by the TV-speakers.

 

'He probably wont look as mesmerising in real life. Right! Didn't I read somewhere about that. People on TV looking different when you see them for real. All the red lips and blue eyes are probably just a trick of the light – and make-up. Sure everyone on TV wears make-up.'

 

Suddenly Erik felt a little guilty. Despite his denial, he was using his mother as an excuse – he wouldn't be here, if his interest hadn't been kindled by the chef himself and not the recipes and the cooking itself. But he should have done something like this for his mother. Doing something with her seemed long overdue.

 

The loud shout from the studio floor tore him out of his thoughts. It was one of the assistants, wearing headphones. “Ok, people, this is it. Please remember, though this is not a life broadcast, we will try and keep retakes to a minimum. If you need to ask Mr. Xavier anything about the cooking, you will get an opportunity for that after the show is done.”

 

Erik felt his mothers hand on his shoulder. He looked at her. She was beaming. “I bought both his books. I hope he will sign them afterwards.”

 

Erik raised an eyebrow. His gaze fell to his mother's feet, were she had placed a bag, that had all sort of fruits printed on it. That was why his mother had insisted on bringing that big bag along. Yet he felt slightly giddy at the idea of actually getting to meet the man he had watched mesmerized on the screen – and get an autograph. He caught himself and shook his head. He was not getting exited about a mere signature in a cookbook.

 

“Now, if you please can give a big applause for our star, master of the kitchen, winner of Chef of the Year, Charles Xavier.

 

Erik had tried to play down his interest. Now he felt a rush of adrenalin, as Charles Xavier took to the floor. He stepped in front of the kitchen aisle, all charming smile, blue eyes flashing with self-confidence, all in all looking a bit cocky even.

 

“Thank you and welcome to 'Chef X'. I'm glad to have you here and hope I can share some of my cooking secrets with you today.” Xavier's gaze swept the audience and for a moment Erik thought he was looking right at him. Like he was really seeing him, not like another undistinguished face in the crowd.

 

'Well of course he might have noticed. The only guy in the entire audience. Might wonder what a freak showed up to watch him cook.' Erik cringed.

 

“Today I want to carry you off into the world of seafood and show you what non-seafood dishes it blends with best, so you can create a meal rich in variety. But as you know, first I need an assistant from the audience.”

 

It felt like all the women in the audience got sucked forward at these words. Even his mother looked a little hopeful, Erik noted with a little embarrassment.

 

“Since usually I have one of the lovely ladies from the audience assist me, I want to take the opportunity of giving our sole male audience member of today a chance. I want you to be my assistant today.” Xavier looked straight at Erik. The women around him turned to look too. Tone of the cameras swivelled round on its stand to zoom in on him.

 

“Oh Erik! This is so exiting.” His mother whispered flustered and pushed at his arm insistently as Erik did not get up. He felt still way to stunned. Slightly dazed Erik got to his feet and nearly stumbled down the stairs. 'Great entrance. Great!'

 

One of the assistants came rushing forward to wire him up, stuck a micro to the front of his shirt, and tugged the transmitter to the back of his pants. He got handed an apron too. He tried to tie it behind his back without disrupting any of the technical gadgets added to him..

 

“Wait, let me help.” For a moment Xavier's fingers brushed over his hands and Erik quickly drew them back, like burnt. He felt a slight tug on the apron as it was tied properly. Then Xavier stepped round to face him. “So what is your name?”

 

“Lehnsherr. Erik Lehnsherr. I'm here with my mother.” Oh and didn't that sound suave.

 

Xavier smiled amused,while Erik wished for a hole in the ground to swallow him up whole. His mother waved. “Well, thank you Mrs. Lehnsherr for bringing your son to my show today. And please, lets have a warm applause for Erik.”

 

The audience clapped obediently **.**

 

“So do you usually do a lot of cooking, Erik?”

 

“Not as much as I want to, but...” he refrained from mentioning his mother again, by saying he learnt cooking from her. “I tried some of your recipes though.” 'And if this doesn't come of as smarmy.'

 

But Xavier looked interested, perhaps he hadn't thought he was here cause of any genuine interest. “Oh, which ones?”

 

Erik panicked, not wanting to admit that 'some' actually meant two – and had been easy ones at that. “Oh – the Mini pork pies with piccalilli for example- they were really delicious. And perfect to take to work too.”

 

“Well I hope you will like what I have planned for today as well.”

 

Erik could only nod. He was sure he would like anything Xavier had in store for him.

 

First Xavier had him peel and dice tomatoes. He was proud he didn't make a mess of it under Xavier's scrutinising gaze. He felt like he was being judged – and apparently deemed worthy, since he was given the task of skinning the fish next. Xavier showed him – and the audience – how it was done with one fish, before he left him to the task. Only Erik found it hard, keeping his focus on the food, when he had Xavier so close.

 

Erik noticed little details, like the hair at Xavier's neck curling in an unruly fashion. How he looked younger up close. His broad shoulders and bared forearms, that bore many marks like from cuts and burns. One of the marks looked fresh. Erik could imagine tracing that scar with his tongue, then Xavier would pin him down into the bed, smirking... Erik's mouth went dry.

 

Suddenly Xavier moved to his side, standing close. “Do you need any help? Look it's better if you hold the knife like this.” With that Xavier covered Erik's hand with his, gripping it gently and guiding his movement in separating the skin of the fish in a fine slice of the white meat.

 

The hand felt very warm. Erik couldn't help look at the man’s face instead of what he was showing him. Xavier smelled good. Like cinnamon... sandalwood?

 

Xavier met his gaze with a smirk. “Now you think you can manage by yourself?”

 

Erik looked down at the fish. “Yes. Thank you, I guess I will.”

 

“Feel free to ask for help any time. And remember, don't grip the knife to tightly. You have to hold it gently – like a lover. And always...”

 

But Erik was no longer paying attention as Xavier turned to his audience, explaining about knives and what a well stocked kitchen should never be without.

 

Erik's heart was hammering in his chest. 'He is flirting with the audience. Not you!', Erik told himself sternly. Yet he couldn't help looking for an opportunity that might bring Xavier closer to 'explain' something to him again. But the next steps in preparations were all rather boring. Erik just had to chop up ingredients and hand them to Xavier.

 

“You are doing fine.” Xavier said after a break in explanations came up. “You grasp on how to work rather quickly. Or is it experience.”

 

“Well, as I said, I don't get round to cooking as often as I liked, but I have been helping my mother since I can remember.”

 

Xavier chuckled. “No doubt nibbling at the cookie-dough when you were a little boy.”

 

“You said yourself in your shows, tasting is important. Don't give your guests something you haven't tasted yourself and are absolutely sure can't be made a little bit better still.” Erik retorted triumphantly.

 

“I see, you really have been paying attention to me!” Xavier licked his lips. “Tell me, since we are preparing seafood today – what do you prefer?”

 

Erik shrugged. “Fish is all right, though it's often prepared to not taste very interesting.”

 

“Something I hope we can avoid today!” That brought a chuckle from the audience, but Xavier kept his focus on Erik. “And what about – oysters? Do you eat oysters, or do you prefer snails?” Xavier's voice had taken on a sultry tone.

 

“What?”

 

“I am just wondering where your taste lies, oysters or snails – or do you prefer both?”

 

Erik blinked. Those lines sounded strangely familiar. And then he knew where he had heard that bit about oysters and snails before. 'Xavier is not quoting that old Spartacus movie and – using it to flirt.' Even if the words maybe could have been deemed innocent, coupled with the way Xavier licked his lips - 'Oh god, he does!'

 

Xavier leant a little closer, his shoulder pressing against Erik's arm. “My taste includes both - snails and oysters, I find it a sin to not keep an open mind and shun any delicacies.”

 

Erik was hard pressed not to lean closer too. “Both – I like both.” He swallowed. “Though I prefer snails.”

 

Xavier's smile widened. “How delightful – it would be a wast of opportunity, if you are presented with something delicious looking, not to want and taste it. Don't you think?”

 

Erik nodded. He had no idea how else to respond. 'Fuck. He is flirting with me – on TV – in front of my mother!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote about the snails and oysters is from a dialogue in the 1960 Spartacus movie. It's during the bathing scene between General Crassus (Laurence Olivier) and his slave, Antoninus (played by Tony Curtis)  
>  For easier reference, the full quote:
> 
> Marcus Licinius Crassus: Do you eat oysters?  
>  Antoninus: When I have them, master.  
>  Marcus Licinius Crassus: Do you eat snails?  
>  Antoninus: No, master.  
>  Marcus Licinius Crassus: Do you consider the eating of oysters to be moral and the eating of snails to be immoral?  
>  Antoninus: No, master.  
>  Marcus Licinius Crassus: Of course not. It is all a matter of taste, isn't it?  
>  Antoninus: Yes, master.  
>  Marcus Licinius Crassus: And taste is not the same as appetite, and therefore not a question of morals.  
>  Antoninus: It could be argued so, master.  
>  Marcus Licinius Crassus: My robe, Antoninus. My taste includes both snails and oysters.


	3. Chapter 3

Charles undid the buttons of his cooking jacket and slid it off, leaving himself with wearing only the short sleeved red shirt. He only had a moment respite, before he was to meet today’s audience, give autographs, answer questions. He stepped to the washbasin in his dressing room, splashing cold water on his face. 

 

Usually he would just keep the cooking jacket on, this time though he had reason to go for something different. He tugged his leather jacket from where he had draped it over his chair and pulled it on. 

 

He was looking forward to meeting his assistant of today’s show again. He had been a delightful change of menu to what he usually found in his audience. And best of all, he seemed far from reluctant to respond to his flirting. (Even though his sister and his manager both tried to convince him he was terrible at it. Well he would dangle this success right in front of their noses.)

 

He smirked at the big mirror and the image of himself it showed him. His floppy hair had gotten a bit wet, but he just brushed it back. 'Let's see, if this Erik Lehnsherr would care for some private – cooking lessons.'

 

+++

 

Erik sat in his car, looking out into the grey. Rain poured down the windshield and obscured the view of the studio building. His gaze drifted to the dashboard clock. His mother had said she would be quick, she only wanted to get the cooking books signed. 

 

Erik let his head sink forward, forehead resting on the steering wheel. He felt like a coward. And he didn't even know what he was afraid of. That Xavier would flirt with him as shamelessly off camera as he had done on? Or that he wouldn't? Technically Erik had nothing to loose. 

 

His mother either hadn't noticed what had been going on in the studio kitchen or choose to ignore or even approve it. It was sometimes hard to tell with his mother. Ever since he had come out to her as being bi, they hadn't talked about it – except that once.

 

After the terrible breakup with Magda, which happened right after everything had gone downhill after his daughters death... Edie had tried to get him to talk about, tried to make him see that this was not the end of the world, that he still could find happiness, a family. Erik had snapped. Told her he didn't want to replace what he had had. That actually he'd had enough of women and would stick to men from now on.

 

Edie had been confused at first. Erik had explained. She had frowned at him. She hadn't said a thing about his confession. In fact she hadn't said a thing to him for a week and Erik had worried that he had lost his mother too. But a week later, it was the middle of the night, there had been a knock at his apartment door. His mother just stood there, saying she was sorry for taking so long to come to terms with Erik liking men just as well as women and he would always be her son and she hoped he could forgive her for being somewhat old-fashioned.

 

That night they had talked. About everything they hadn't spoken of since Anya's death. 

 

And that seemed to have been it. But he had noticed, she never asked him about if he had met or was dating someone.

 

Erik sighed, lifting his head back up and rubbing his hand over his forehead were the steering wheel no doubt had left a dent. Though all that didn't explain why he wasn't with his mother getting an autograph from Xavier and maybe flirting with him some more – and ogling his arms, hands, mouth, well, all of him really. 

 

Sure his mother could cope.

 

Instead he had taken a look at the downpour, well visible through the large windows of the studio's visitor-area and it suddenly seemed like a good idea to fetch the car to the studio’s entrance, so his mother wouldn't need to walk through the rain. 

 

'What am I running from?' Erik shook his head. 'Surely it would have just been a bit of harmless fun – a bit more flirting. It's not like the Star of a cooking show would consider going out with someone from the audience.' Why hadn't he gone and enjoyed a bit more of the attention then?

 

'I guess I'm just tired. Of flirting and meaningless short lived relationships – just like I don't want anything serious.' 

 

Though it had felt nice... He thought of Xavier's arms and the scars, like he did not just cook but went to battle in the kitchen. That thought made a smile tug at Erik's lips. Xavier seemed rather intense.

 

A sudden knock at the car's window made him jump.

 

His mother stood there, her arms full with her bag and another big hard-cover book. Erik opened the door. “Mutti?”

 

“Here, help me with this.” And she dumped the book onto his lap, before she hurried over to the passenger side and got in.

 

Erik closed his door, then took the book. For a moment he stared half disbelieving at the cover. It showed a pig's head on a stainless steel plate counter, standing behind it, smirking, was Charles Xavier.

 

“This is his new cookbook. Oh, he was so nice, asking about you. And then he insisted on giving this to you, as thank you for your assistance. He said he regretted not being able to give it to you personally. And he looked like he meant it, too. He signed it too. And both of the cooking books I brought. A fine young gentleman – and rather handsome, don't you think. All the other women were jealous they didn't have their daughters accompany them. ” Edie's chuckle sounded perfectly devious.

 

Erik had deposited the book on the back-seat. He started the car, turned on the windscreen wipers and made to drive off. He tried to keep his eyes on the road and not to look at his mother. “That is very nice of him.”

 

“It's a pity you didn't come along.”

 

Erik didn't quite know what to say to that, especially since he had been thinking so too, so he just shrugged. 

 

“He was flirting with you, wasn't he?” She sounded like she wasn't certain though.

 

Now Erik blushed. “Mutti!”

 

“I'm just asking.”

 

“Well – yes – maybe.” He pressed his lips together. 

 

The silence stretched between them and Erik risked a glance over at his mother. She looked thoughtful.

 

“You know, I would not have minded, if you flirted with him some more. Or asked him out.”

 

Erik reached out to touch his mothers shoulder. “Mutti, I know. It just - “ he smiled. “You are right, he is rather handsome and that's why. I feel a little to old to get starstruck.”

 

“Hmpf, I don't. I asked him what recipe was his personal favourite, and...”

 

Erik listened to his mother recount her meeting with the Star Chef, while he tried to not remember that wicked smirk Xavier had given him, as he asked if he preferred oysters or snails. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny update for Christmas Eve. Hope to get the next chapter up by tomorrow morning (CET) before work though.

After having taken his mother home, Erik returned to his own apartment right away. It wasn't that late yet, but he had to go back to work tomorrow and he wanted to use the rest of his one day off to straighten up the place a little bit.

 

Once inside, he dropped Xavier's book on the dresser, after having nearly forgotten it in the car. He made a point not looking at the cover. He decide on cleaning up the kitchen area first, before storing it there with his other cookbooks. 'It is just another cookbook. Maybe one of these days I'll look at it to browse for recipes. Just not now.'

 

So the afternoon went by with sorting dirty dishes into the dishwasher, moving everything around while wiping down kitchen counter and shelves. He found himself quite into the physical aspect of the cleaning progress, so as soon as he had the kitchen done, he moved to the rest of the living room, then to the bathroom.

 

It was already dark outside when he finally stopped. He took a long, hot shower, dressed in pyjama- bottoms and a soft faded blue shirt, then stretched out on his huge couch, a mug of hot chocolate cradled against his chest. He zapped through the TV-channels, watched some news-coverage, then switched to a documentary about fish and coral reefs, sipping his hot chocolate from time to time – nearly spitting out a mouth full as the documentary focused on oysters.

 

Erik remembered Xavier's book was still sitting outside on his dresser. He should put it on the shelve as he had intended to. He got up to fetch it but then walked past the kitchen aisle back to his couch. He took a deep breath, before taking a look at the cover. He took his time, studying the picture closely. He had been wrong. Xavier might look good on screen and pictures but in real life he had been – even better. He frowned a little, as he studied Xavier's bare arms. Either they had done some retouching of the photo or the one scar he had noticed (had wanted to lick) had happened after the picture had been taken. He found his fingers tracing the arms on the photograph. Wishing it were bigger. Or real.

 

And here he had told his mother he was to old to be starstruck. With a disapproving grunt he put the book aside and tried to focus back on the TV, but the fish had lost all of their limited fascination.

He pulled the book close again, opening it. Hadn't his mother said Xavier had signed it. Erik didn't have to wonder about what Xavier had written for long, because he found the dedication in bold flourishing letters right on the title page.

 

_'To Erik, my favourite Assistant._

_Charles Xavier'_

 

The underneath it said, the writing a bit smaller, somehow, more intimate looking.

 

_'Care to assist me with something personal?'_

And then there was a column of numbers. Erik's heart was beating quickly. He stared at the message – the phone-number. Xavier had actually given him his phone number?!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing you a merry mcfassy christmas morning!

He now was in possession of Xavier's phone number.

 

Erik had fetched his mobile right away, only to not use it and drop it on the couch beside the book. He had looked at the small massage time and again, then at the picture of the man who had left it there. He tried to read in the seven words what Xavier would want – or what he expected. A date? Just sex? 

 

Erik browsed through the cooking book as if he could find any answers there. All he found were pictures of food and – some of Xavier himself, working in the kitchen. Slicing, dicing, stirring pans. Some looked to show him right in action, others he clearly had posed for. 

 

Erik decided he liked the first ones better. In those Xavier looked completely focused and intense. Erik couldn't help wondering, if he would look like that during sex as well. 

 

He needed something to drink. Erik got up and rummaged in the fridge. He found a half-empty bottle of applestrudel-liqueur. It had been a present from his mother. Not what he usually drank. He only kept it for guests – that were few and far in-between. But now it seemed exactly what he needed. He poured himself a small glass and emptied it in two gulps. The liquid only left a brief sweet taste in his mouth, before it ran hotly down his throat and then seemed to evaporate. Only a warm feeling was left in his belly.

 

He poured himself another glass and went back to the couch. 

 

What did Xavier want?

 

A drop of liquid had run down from the rim of the glass onto his finger. Absent-mindedly Erik licked the drop off.

 

What did he himself want? That was the real question he had to answer first.

 

“What do I want?” Erik studied the orang liquid in the, glass then took another small sip, licking his lips. 

 

He wanted a taste. 

 

He reached for his phone and typed in the number Xavier had noted down for him. Yet he hesitated to push the call button.

 

It took another ten minutes of staring at the message, and emptying the glass of liqueur, before he made the call.

 

He waited, listening to the dial tone with a beating heart.

 

Finally someone picked up the phone and an irritated sleepy growl came over the line. “Who the fuck is this?”

 

Erik nearly dropped the phone. “I'm sorry. You gave me this number – this is Erik Lehnsherr.” Uncertainly Erik added. “from today - your assistant.”

 

“... oh, Erik! Sorry, I was already asleep. But I'm glad you called, I was starting to think you wouldn't.”

 

Erik looked to the clock on the TV. Shit. It was already after midnight. “I'm so sorry. I didn't realise it was that late already, I didn't mean to wake you.”

 

There was a throaty chuckle from Xavier. “I actually don't mind being woken by you.”

 

“I'm glad to hear that.” 'Erik, you can do better!' “I wanted to thank you for your new book. I was leafing through it and completely lost track of time...”

 

“Found something you like?”

 

Erik smiled. He was feeling slightly giddy. “Yes. Though I think you look even better in real than in the photos.”

 

Xavier gave a pleased purr. At least it sounded like a purr to Erik's ears. “I see. You like my looks, seems like I still have to work on getting my manyfold skills and talents across to you. I have a very convincing tongue, would you like me to try it on you?”

 

Erik gave an involuntary little gasp and nearly bit his tongue as he tried to stop himself. He really had not intended to be that easy. 

 

“I take that as a yes. What about this Saturday?”

 

“Yes. I mean, I have no other plans.”

 

“Good. Then let's say at 5 in the evening. I want to invite you to taste some of - “

 

Erik could feel his ears grow hot, thinking he knew what Xavier would say to him. But then he ended only with “my culinary inventions. At one of my restaurants. I'll text you the address.”

 

“Ok, I'll be there. Looking forward to what you have in store for me.” Erik felt reluctant to end the call, but then he had woken Xavier up. “So I'll better let you get back to sleep again.”

 

“More's the pity. Sweet dreams, Erik.”

 

Erik's gaze fell on Xavier's book and he traced the picture of the man he was just talking to with on finger. “I'm sure I will have those. - Good Night!” Reluctantly he pulled the phone away from his ear. Before he could hang up, Xavier had done so. A little dazed Erik stared at the phone. Suddenly it gave a short buzz, that nearly made him drop it. He checked for messages. As promised Xavier had sent him the address. A bit puzzled he noticed a file attached. He frowned. Was it a map? The address was hardly remote.

 

He opened the file and found himself looking at a sleep tousled Xavier, who was smiling sweetly at the camera in a mixture of sleepy and sexy. 

 

Heat rushed through Erik's body as he realised he must have taken that picture right now – in his bed – for him. If his flirting was a taste of things to come, then... Erik bit his lip. He wanted that man smiling down at him, holding his wrists pinned to the bed, while he was slowly fucking him.

 

Erik stared at the picture.

 

Should he send a picture back? Or should he just reply with words? What was the usual expected reply, if someone sent you a picture of themselves in bed before you even dated. Scratch that. Xavier - Charles apparently didn't flirt the 'usual way'.

 

And then it seemed too late for sending anything. Waking Xavier up once in one night seemed enough. Instead Erik started to worry again. By the speed Xavier was moving, this sure meant the whole affair would soon be over too.

 

'But you don't want anything serious anymore anyway!' thought Erik sternly while his fingers moved over the touch-pad of his phone, saving Charles' phone number with the picture he had sent him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has a date.

They were to meet at the restaurant.

Charles' restaurant. 

One of Charles' restaurants.

 

Erik had been to posh places before, mainly for work related meetings, but never before one that had a separate VIP area.

 

Erik tried to look around unobtrusively and not show how much he felt out of place. The room was spacious, yet allowed for privacy. The tables stood spread wide apart, with geometrical patterned metal screens between them. Otherwise the decoration was kept to a minimum, the metal and glass containers for the small tealights, the only thing unnecessary on the tables. The high backed dark chairs looked functional, but, to Erik's relieve, proved quite comfortable.

 

He had been brought some wine and been told that Mr. Xavier would be with him shortly. Erik still found the fact that he was here on a date with Star Chef Charles Xavier rather surreal.

 

He heard footsteps approaching and looked up. 

 

Charles Xavier had stopped at his table and looked down at him. He was wearing a black shirt, collar unbuttoned down to the black waistcoat. He looked – edible, and Erik found himself licking his lips. Before he remembered himself and got up.

 

“Welcome to my restaurant, Erik! Sorry I kept you waiting, but I couldn't help checking if everything was going smoothly in the kitchen.” 

 

Charles was clearly checking him out, and Erik wondered if he wasn't overdressed, in a pale grey suit and purple tie. It seemed fine for the restaurant, but … 

“That's alright. Thank you for the invitation, Charles.” It was odd, finally saying the other man's name out loud. They shook hands. Erik noticed Charles' shirtsleeves were unbuttoned and for a daring moment he imagined sliding his hand up over Charles' arms. 'Not yet.'

 

Charles sat down opposite him.

 

“I hope you don't mind not being able to order, but having had me plan out the dinner beforehand.”

 

“I guess that is the prerogative of the restaurant's owner.”

 

Charles shrugged. “My sister would tell me I'm pushy. And that I should ask what people want, before assuming I know what they want.” There was a coy little smile playing around Charles' lips. “So if I got it wrong and you don't like what you get, just call me out on it.”

 

“All right. Though, if it's all based on your recipes, I guess it wont be very likely I have to. And despite being Jewish, I don't keep a special diet.”

 

Charles grinned. “I gathered as much.”

 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “How?”

 

“The pork pies; you mentioned trying the recipe.”

 

Erik grinned sheepishly. “Got me there. You are a good observer.”

 

“Only when it concerns something that interests me. But otherwise, I don't know that much about you - yet. Apart from the fact that you have a lovely mother – and that you did indeed steal the cookie-dough, specially that for honey-cakes, one time eating it all and getting terribly sick afterwards.”

 

Laughing Erik hung his head. “Oh, but that's not fair! You should give me a chance of ten minutes with your mother, to find out more about you.”

 

For a moment Charles' smile changed and he looked like he had bitten into something bitter. “That would be a waste of time.”

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

 

But Charles shook his head. “You couldn't know. You would have to try my sister for any unsavoury details from my childhood.” He leant forward, reaching out with one hand. His fingertips brushed over Erik's knuckles. “Though I will do anything to make sure to distract you, so you will get no such ideas.” Charles' looked up, gaze intense on Erik. “You still like honey?”

 

“Still got a soft spot for it, yes – in all forms.”

 

“Then I hope you will like my idea for dessert.” Charles' fingers lingered on Erik's hand for a moment more, before he drew them back. Erik wished he could just slip out of his suit, feeling rather hot and breathless. If he didn't want to embarrass himself by telling the man to just skip the whole dinner affair, and get right down to dessert – and go right down on him. 'God, his shameless flirting goes straight to my – well not my head.'

 

“I'm sure I will. But I'm not so sure of where to start my reconnaissance of you.”

 

“Sure you have read my bio and can go from there?”

 

Erik smiled ruefully. He hadn't even considered looking up Charles Xavier online. “Actually, I haven't. I became so engrossed in your recipes” 'and pictures of you' “that I didn't look it up. And it seems rather dull to just read up on you, when I am given the opportunity to find things out first hand.” 

 

Charles raised an eyebrow. He looked rather flattered and please. “It is refreshing to meet someone who doesn't say 'oh I have read everything about you'.”

 

Erik lowered his voice. “I would rather read you.”

 

“Where do you want to start?” 

 

Erik's gaze fell onto Charles arms. “Those scars, are they really all from cooking.”

 

Erik realized Charles was studying his face, but he couldn't tear his gaze from Charles' arms, noting how snugly the shirtsleeves fit at his upper arms. His thoughts revolved around the idea of simply being held by those arms - or being pinned down by them. 

 

Charles moved slowly. He started to deliberately roll up his sleeves, baring his lower arms. Against the freckles littering his pale skin, the different scars stood in stark contrast. Now that Erik had time to look his share, he noticed some very old faded scars, among the fresher ones, and those that seemed to stem from cuts or burn to deep to heal without leaving a mark.

 

“Hmmm...” Charles moved his arms, displaying then from both sides, like he was considering where to start his tale.

 

Erik moved forward, his hand hovering over Charles arm, before he traced the freshest one with a finger. “What about this one?” He heard Charles catch his breath as he touched his skin. “Does it still hurt.”

 

“No. It's a testimony of me not always being the most patient of teachers.”

 

Erik looked questioning at him. Charles shrugged. “I rushed in to safe a cap of rump from being clumsily butchered by one of my apprentices and got this for my effort.”

 

“Your kitchen sounds really a dangerous place.”

 

“Depends on who is working in it. I felt quite safe with you.”

 

Erik shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, reminded that he had been accused of the opposite before. Not able to keep those dear to him safe. His gaze searched Charles' arms for a distraction. “And this? This doesn't look like a cut.” He rubbed Charles' skin with his thumb. The skin felt oddly stretched over a part of the inside of Charles' arm.

 

“That is an old one. I learnt the hard way that boiling water is indeed hot and that the kitchen is not a place to let your thoughts wander. You have to concentrate on exactly what you are doing, or you spoil a dish...”

 

“Or get hurt.”

 

“Or that.” Though the way Charles' said it, it sounded like it was the lesser of two evils.

 

“I told you already, that I like the photos of you. But it's really the ones that show you when you are cooking I like the best. You look so intense and concentrated.”

 

Charles' eyes shone. “What can I say, I love my work. I find it fascinating, you have all these different foods and spices, each thing has a unique taste. Sometimes it's nice, sometimes boring, sometimes even, taken by itself, it might even be described as foul. But by combining all these things, all these flavours, you can create something new and unique. Something that hasn't existed in that way before.”

 

Erik was drawn into the passionate speech. Charles used his hands while talking, small precise gestures to underline his words. Erik wanted to capture that passion. He reached out, brushing the back of his hand against Charles. Next thing, they had their fingers entwined. 

 

Only as the first course arrived, did they let go of each other's hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles takes Erik back to his place for - dessert. Served in Charles' bedroom. With a coating of honey. ;) Sex, sweet talking and mild food play (honey only) ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Was told that the end was a bit aprubt. So I tried to make it better. :) Bibi, this is for you ;)

“As for dessert – I want to serve that to you at my place.”

 

Erik hadn't even thought twice about his answer to that. He had found it harder and harder to concentrate on the food – which had been delicious. But it had to loose in competition to Charles Xavier. Having Charles tell him about the dishes they had been served, hadn't helped, since it had made Charles eyes light up. And he had looked expectantly at Erik, sucking at his lower lip, as Erik had taken the first bite. He seemed to feed off of Erik's delight at the food as much as of the food itself.

 

So Erik had said 'yes' and followed Charles out of the restaurant, into the waiting taxi, into the apartment building and into the elevator.

 

They had been good this far, only holding hands and daring small touches. Now the doors of the elevator closed and Charles turned toward Erik, looking at him with a dark lustful glint in his eyes.

 

Erik swallowed hard. “I have no idea what you have in store for me, but all I really would like to taste now, is you.”

 

Smiling sweetly Charles stepped closer, capturing Erik's hands with his, as Erik wanted to reach out for him. He pushed Erik's arms down beside his body, then leant against him. Charles thumbs rubbed against Erik's wrists.

 

Mesmerised Erik leant closer. Their mouths touched briefly, then lingered against each other. Erik felt Charles breath spill hotly against his face and shivered. He noticed he could feel Charles' heart beat strongly. The thought that he was having such an effect on the other man was like some heady wine. Erik’s lips parted and Charles seemed to take that as a cue. His tongue licked over Erik's lips, before the tip slid into his mouth. Erik closed his eyes. The kiss was slow, making Erik feel thoroughly explored and tasted.

 

“That's only a first taste...”

 

Erik stumbled a little as the elevator stopped and Charles moved back, pulling him along. He thought he couldn't remember the last time he had wanted someone so much. If ever.

 

He tried to drown out the small voice in the back of his mind, that seemed to tell him to stop, to examine what he was doing. That this could only lead to hurt and heartbreak. Right as the door to Charles' apartment closed, Erik slid out of his jacket. Charles was behind him, helping him, then his hands slid up over his chest, undoing the buttons of his waistcoat **.**

 

They discarded half their clothes on the way to the bedroom. Shoes, socks, jacket and waistcoat all landed on the floor. Charles took hold of Erik's purple tie and, tugging gently, led Erik the last steps.

Erik felt hot lust unfurl in his belly.

 

Charles reached for a lightswitch. Hidden lamps in the corners of the bedroom came on, bathing the room in a warm halfglow.

 

“Purple. I hadn't thought you would go for such a bold colour.”

 

“Full of surprises?”

 

Charles let his gaze wander down. “Well let me see.”

 

On cue Erik started unbuttoning his shirt, while Charles loosened the tie and pulled it off him. He didn't wait for Erik to finish with the buttons, but pushed the shirt down over Erik's shoulders. Then he pulled him close for another kiss.

 

Though Erik's arms were trapped by the shirt, he still could move his hands and reach for Charles' trousers, undoing buttons, trying to get his fingers to touch warm skin.

There was a soft growl against his mouth. “You don't waste an opportunity.” He felt Charles' mouth brush against his chin, then the slight soft scratching of his beard against the tender skin of his neck.

 

Erik felt hot and getting hard, as Charles sucked at his neck.

 

He whimpered as Charles stopped and licked the now tender spot. “God Erik, the things you make me want to do to you.”

 

Erik wasn't sure if the last button on his shirt tore off or Charles actually managed to open it, but the shirt finally slid to the ground, and Charles pulled him along, pushing him onto the bed. Erik scrambled back , and Charles followed with a predatory smile.

 

“Now, I promised you desert.”

 

Erik sank back, looking up at Charles who was leaning over him.

 

“Close your eyes, Erik.”

 

Erik looked questioning but Charles shook his head. “Just do it.”

 

Obediently Erik did as he was told. The bed under him dipped slightly, as Charles drew back. He heard the slide of fabric against skin. Was Charles taking off his shirt?

 

Erik tried to listen intently, but all he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears.

 

Then he felt Charles move back to him. Suddenly a sticky, wet finger touched his lips. Involuntarily Erik jerked his head and wanted to open his eyes. “Don't open them. Just taste it.”

 

And then the smell and texture fully registered. “Honey?” Charles' finger slid gently past his parted lips, coating his mouth with the sticky substance.

 

“And?”

 

“What?”

 

“There is more to it.”

 

Erik had to smile, but started licking at Charles' finger. There really was something mixed in with the honey. Spices. “Cinnamon?”

 

“Yes, good. What else?”

 

Erik frowned in concentration. “I can taste it, but I don't know what it is.”

 

“Nutmeg and saffron.“ Charles drew his finger back to replace it with his lips, warm and tasting of honey from Erik’s mouth now. The taste mixed, as Charles slid his tongue into Erik's mouth, kissing him slowly, leaving him breathless and dizzy. He opened his eyes again.

 

Charles was looking at him from up close. Eyes searching his. Erik felt like drowning in that gaze. “I want to lick honey from all of your body.” Erik shivered. It took him a moment to realise, that Charles was asking his permission.

 

“I'm going to be a sticky mess in the morning.”

 

“I was counting on something like that.” The wicked words were accompanied by a just as wicked smile. “But don't worry. I'll promise, I'll make sure you get to shower... after I'm finished with you.”

 

“All right – but first I want to get you out of your trousers.” He reached out, trailing a finger over Charles' naked chest and down his belly. “I'm curious … about those freckles of yours... where they stop.”

 

Charles chuckled, but sat up, giving Erik better access to finish what he started earlier, unbuttoning his trousers. He helped Erik get rid of the rest of his clothes too, taking a moment to leer at Erik's cock. “I felt that, when I leant against you, but I could not quite believe it.” There was a wicked glint in Charles' eyes as he moved to dip his fingers in the bowl that held the honey-spice mix.

 

Erik shivered as the first drops of honey dripped down onto his belly, though Charles was aiming for somewhere else. Not sooner he felt the sticky fluid drip down his cock, he felt Charles' mouth upon him.

 

Charles took his time to taste him, exploring his body, teasingly starting with his cock but then moving everywhere else. Erik moaned and panted, arching up into the touches of Charles tongue. He let his hands run over Charles' shoulders, feeling the taut muscles there. He tried to reach lower, down Charles' back, his arms. “You feel so good!” But Erik wanted more. “Fuck me! Please Charles...”

 

Charles moved so he could look down at him again. One hand held Erik's left wrist, pinned to the bed. He brushed the thumb of his other hand against Erik's lips. “Are you certain?”

 

“Yes!” To show how certain he was, Erik slid his free hand down Charles' body, finding his cock hard, wrapping his long fingers around it.

 

Charles took in a sharp breath, eyes falling shut for a moment, thrusting into Erik's hand. “I would not object, if you just used your hand... ah... yes, like that.”

 

“I want you! In me.”

 

“Mmhhmmm... good. Let me just...” Charles detached himself from Erik to reach for a drawer in the bedside table. A wrapped condom landed on the bed beside Erik, and finally Charles' was back, with a plastic container.

 

“So, how do you -Want me to turn around?”

 

“No, I want you just like that, on your back. So I can see your face.” Charles knelt on the bed beside him. “Just pull your legs up.”

 

Erik's eyes were on Charles, as he arranged him just as he wanted, only closing them as Charles slid a finger, slicked up with lube, against the tight puckered entrance. “Tell me, if I'm moving too fast or it's not good.” Charles was taking his time . Gently teasing against the puckered skin, before he even tried to push his finger in, making Erik’s breath hitch.

 

Charles free hand was caressing his thighs and belly, while he worked Erik loose, finally grasping his cock, stroking him in sync with the way he used his fingers to fuck him open.

 

“Good, now please!”

 

Charles' hands stilled, then he withdrew his fingers. “Think I'll need your help with the condom. “

 

Erik reached beside himself, where he remembered the condom had been thrown before and found it between the sheets. He tore the wrapping eagerly, and helped Charles to put it on his cock.

 

Charles moved between his legs, lifting them.

 

Erik felt Charles' fingers slide into him once more, only to be withdrawn again and replaced by Charles' cock.

 

For a moment Erik thought he might have asked for this too fast. Charles' cock was stretching him even wider and it felt like he wouldn't be able to take it. Erik squeezed his eyes shut. Then Charles stopped in him.

 

“Erik, look at me.”

 

He couldn't. The feel of being stretched, filled – too much.

 

He felt Charles move an arm around Erik's leg, caressing it soothingly. Then he shifted – Erik felt Charles' hair tickle his face, then his lips brushing against Erik's, kissing his mouth, licking, suckling till Erik relaxed and opened his mouth to kiss back.

 

'God, Charles, why are you so perfect.'

 

“It's all right.”

 

Charles' hand moved to Erik's cock again, stroking him leisurely.

 

“Tell me when it's ok for you.”

 

Erik nodded. “Move – please – fuck me!”

 

Charles did, starting slowly, but it was clear to see on his face, that he was holding back. Erik lifted his hips, meeting Charles thrust, making him moan. “Yes, Erik, good!”

 

Erik was sliding his hands over Charles' arms, wanting to pull him closer, to feel his weight on top of him, but couldn't. So he just held on to him, while he thrust into him.

 

Charles came, breathing heavily. Erik growled needy at the loss of contact as Charles' slid out of him and took his time to dispose of the condom. Erik was still hard and a small voice in his head was taunting him. 'Too good to be true. He got what he wanted, now your off to fend for yourself' But that voice was shut up quickly as Charles moved over him, claiming Erik's mouth with a breathtaking kiss, pressing Erik down into the sheets with his body.

Erik arched up against him. “Charles!”

 

“Yes?” There was teasing in his voice. “Still need more. Let's see what I can do about – that.” Charles drew away. Erik protested, trying to pull Charles back against him. He wanted to feel Charles with his whole body.

 

Charles mouth was hot against Erik's skin, as he started kissing and licking his way down his chest. It felt good – almost as good – better! Erik buried his hands in Charles' hair. “Yes, please!”

 

Charles put a hand on Erik's slim hips, holding him in place, while a finger teasingly ran up and down Erik's shaft, then gave it an experimental lick with his tongue. Erik moaned.

 

“This will take some time and practice.” Charles chuckled to himself, before he took the tip of Erik’s cock in his mouth. He swirled his tongue experimentally over the head. Erik's hips bucked up, but Charles kept him down. Charles drew back but ran his mouth down the underside of Erik's cock, making him squirm even more. “More,need... Charles!”Charles wrapped his strong fingers around Erik's cock. “Oh...yes, yes...”

 

He heard Charles chuckle close by his ear, before he realised he had moved, so his body pressed hot and hard against his side. Erik wrapped his arms around Charles, not wanting to let him go again.

 

Charles kissed the corner of Erik's mouth. “So good. Erik. Now come for me.” He started jerking Erik off, while he kissed him, tongue thrusting suggestively in and out of Erik's mouth.

 

It didn't take much more to push Erik over the edge. He came, spurting his seeds all over his belly and Charles' hand, while his mouth was still claimed by Charles.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after.   
> Erik thinks the morning after is always awkward. Charles puts him right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a little edit for the last chapter, just the last part, since the sex at the end seemed rushed. So there is a bit more now.
> 
> The lovely ohteepeeh did a wonderful fanart of Charles and Erik first meeting. You can look at it here. http://ohteepeeh.tumblr.com/post/39240779161/suddenly-xavier-moved-to-his-side-standing-close

Erik woke to the sound of someone moving around. Disoriented he lifted his head up from the bed. It felt like he was lying in his bed the wrong way round. The cosy alcove, formed by the pillar on one side and the sloping roof to the other, was missing and... he pushed himself up on his arms. Of course, those things were missing - it wasn't his bedroom he was in.

“Good Morning, Erik. Awake already?” There was Charles, wearing grey sweatpants and pulling on a red shirt.

Morning after. Always a little awkward,when one didn't know what to expect. “Morning. How late is it?”

“Not too late for breakfast.” Charles came closer, picking up the alarm clock from the bedside table, holding it up for Erik’s inspection. It read 9:34. Way past his usual time to get up. Erik frowned.

Charles chuckled. “You look like it's still to early for you though.”

“No, actually it's rather late for me.”

“I will bare all the blame for tiring you out last night.” With that Charles bent down to kiss him. Any residing awkwardness was gone with that, and as Charles drew back, Erik found himself reaching out. His fingers brushed against the nape of Charles' neck, finding the hair there wet and curling. 

Charles let himself be pulled in once more, putting a hand on Erik's bare shoulder, kneading it gently. As they broke apart again, Charles' eyes glinted. “You make me want to skip breakfast...” But Charles' belly rumbled in protest and he laughed. “almost. But we will continue this later.”

Erik quickly got out of bed as Charles' headed for the door. “Want me to help?”

Charles turned, a warm smile playing on his lips, that quickly turned into an open leer as he let his gaze travel up and down Erik’s naked body. “Oh, I'd love to have you in my kitchen just like that – helping me. Though not with making breakfast. You'd be far too much of a distraction. Why don't you take a shower and then come into the kitchen. Through the hallway, second door on the right.”

Erik felt his face grow hot, but didn't turn away, secretly enjoying Charles' appreciative gaze. It wasn't like he hadn't had enough time to look last night. Erik nodded. 

He was already in the shower, hot water running over his body, as he heard Charles' enter. “I thought you might not want to wear your nice suit in the kitchen, so I got you a pair of my sweatpants and a shirt. Hope they'll fit.”

“Thank you! I wont take long.”

It turned out, the trousers fit well enough. They were a bit loose around his waist but otherwise fine and way more comfortable than his dress pants would have been. The shirt was a loose cut, plane white only with the Chef X logo over one chest.

Erik grinned and headed out of the bedroom to find Charles and his kitchen.

xxx

The kitchen was huge. Well what had he expected. Bright daylight came in by two wide windows above the kitchen counters and the window sills were used as a miniature garden. Pots with different herbs growing, stood there. Erik took a short look around, noting the round table with four chairs in the alcove. The furniture was dark wood, but the walls were kept white. There wasn't much clutter in the room. A long board on one wall kept a line of cookbooks and the one windowless wall of the alcove had several black and white photographs someone had added splashes of paint to. Erik thought he might have seen something like that in an art dealer's shop some time ago.

But it all couldn't hold Erik's attention long. His gaze was drawn to Charles, busy in his kitchen. He held a steel bowl in his arms, beating egg whites and then filling them into another bowl, folding it in with the rest of the batter with sure movements. Though Erik wasn't so much admiring Charles' skills in cooking, but the muscles in his forearms, clearly visible with every movement. Erik smiled, feeling oddly content. Only as Charles finished, did he remember he was here not to ogle – not only to ogle. 

“Pancakes?” He asked, stepping closer.

“Charles looked up, noting Erik in the borrowed clothes. He looked pleased. “Waffles. Hope you like them.”

Erik nodded. “What can I do?”

Charles nodded toward the counter. “Cut up the strawberries. Half of them go into the mixer.”

Erik did as he was told. He glanced at Charles from time to time, who moved around the kitchen with ease and efficiency. Erik guessed he must have everything precisely where he wanted and needed it. Erik dumped half the strawberries in the mixer, wondering if the other half would pass muster. There were still some more ingredients on the counter, that had to be added as well to get whipped cream. But Charles probably had his own order of how things had to be mixed, so he refrained from doing anything more. “Done – so far. What next?”

He ended up at the mundane task of doing some more dicing and cutting of vegetables, that went into the frying pan with butter and eggs. All the actual cooking was done by Charles though – and he was damn fast.

As they sat down to eat, far sooner than Erik would have thought, he took a moment to stare. There were waffles with fresh strawberry-cream, scrambled eggs with other things mixed in, coffee and tea, grilled tomatoes, potatoes and sausages plus fresh toast and fresh squeezed orange juice.  
And it all was served like in a five Star hotel, with decorations... only a lot nicer looking. He nearly didn't dare take anything, because it was a simple delight to just look at everything.

“Don't be shy. You weren't last night either.”

Erik laughed, but then started loading food on his plate. “I would have thought, since you do that for a living, you would not make as much effort at home.”

“Oh, but I am happy to be able to do something I love to do. So why should I stop enjoying cooking, just because I am not doing it for an audience or others.”

Erik nodded. “Of course, I didn't think of it like that. - Oh that tastes wonderful. Best scrambled eggs I've ever eaten. I could - “ get used to this. But he shouldn't – couldn't.

Charles looked questioning at him.

“- use the recipe, though I probably would not be able to recreate it just like that.” Erik finished weakly. He looked down. Not into Charles blue eyes. Not at his shoulders and arms. Not at his smiling mouth.

He felt Charles nudging his leg with his toe under the table. “Everything all right?”

Erik used the fork-full of food as an excuse to not answer right away. He chewed slowly before answering “It is. I'm just mourning the fact that I can't make breakfast like that. And I wont be able to eat all this without getting sick.”

Charles seemed to buy that excuse. “Well no, you wont be able to eat it all, cause I want my share!“ He grinned cheekily. “I need to replenish my energy.” He put more strawberry-cream onto the waffles on his plate. Suddenly he leant forward. “Say, do you have anything planned for today?”

“No.” 'He hasn't kicked you out right in the morning. Does that mean neither is he planning to after breakfast?'

Charles looked pleased. “Good. So want to spend some more time with me? Doing nothing fancy. Just hanging out on the couch, maybe watch a movie?”

Erik had no idea what the expression on his face looked at the invitation. But apparently it did not convey his feelings correctly. Charles frowned slightly. Fuck! If he fucked that up! “I was just thinking – morning afters can be bloody awkward...” Erik watched Charles raise an eyebrow. “so I didn't exactly expect-” he had to look away from Charles' inquisitive gaze for a moment. His gaze falling on the grey sweatpants and he gave a short laugh. “Being clothed and fed and still not being thrown out.”

Charles mouth formed a silent oh, but then he grinned. He swooped up a finger full of strawberry cream. “Well, my dear Erik, like with good food, I can't resist coming back for more.” He offered the finger to Erik. 

Erik wrapped his fingers around Charles' hand, then took the finger into his mouth, licking the cream off while looking intently at Charles. There was a moment they just looked at each other, then both bursted out laughing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's start the new year with some fluffiness.

After breakfast they cleared away the dishes and then Charles sent Erik ahead into the separate living room, directing him to pick out a movie. 

 

Curiously Erik wandered into the large room. There was a huge dining table, that looked kind of antique, with matching chairs. The rest of the furniture seemed more modern though, except for one monstrosity of an armchair, that stood in one corner in front of a wall of shelves that held books and DVDs. Erik headed there, taking a quick glance out of the two large glass doors, that led onto a wide terrace. It looked like Charles had a small garden and a barbecue area out there. Probably Charles was often entertaining many guests here.

 

The cream-coloured couch was big enough to hold more than two people. Perfect to spread out on and still be able to role around on it without falling off. So perfect for having sex on, or cuddle, or do both.

 

For a moment it all seemed surreal and Erik made a half snorting half laughing sound. He hardly knew Charles for a day, even if he counted the hours spent as his assistant on a cooking show under the watchful eyes of cameras and an audience. Yet he was here at the man's place, after a night of great sex, followed by delicious breakfast, planning on spending a lazy Sunday with him... Erik shook his head. 

 

Erik wondered what Charles was thinking about the whole situation. Charles didn't know him. He could be some kind of crazy person. Just because his mother was nice, didn't mean he couldn't be some kind of serial killer. Or stalker. Charles was a celebrity of sorts. Wasn't he worried about that? Instead he gave his phone number freely to just anyone he met shortly. Erik frowned, lips pressed together.

 

Charles came over from the kitchen. “Have you chosen a movie yet?” 

 

Erik turned towards the shelves, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Sorry, no. I got a bit distracted.” He started browsing through the spines of DVD-cases. There didn't seem to be any filing system in the way they were lined up. He even had to skip shelves filled with books instead of DVDs, though there never was a shelve where books and DVDs were mixed.

 

Erik suddenly had to laugh and pulled one DVD-case out. He held it up triumphantly. But before he could turn round to show it to Charles, Charles had already moved up to him, warm body pressing against Erik's back, nonchalantly sneaking an arm around Erik's waist.

 

“What have you got there?” A look on the title and Charles was grinning. “A classic. And as you have to admit, it has rather useful quotes. Want to watch it?”

 

“Bunch of half-naked gladiators, who could resist.” Erik teased. 

 

“You make it sound so shallow – though it won 4 Oscars!” Charles pulled Erik with him over to the couch. 

 

“I'm sorry. Of course, a cinematic masterpiece, full of action and drama, gruesome fights and romantic love scenes.” Erik conceded.

 

“That's right. And just as sweet topping to all that, there are the half-naked oiled up male bodies.”

 

Erik laughed. “Maybe I should choose another movie.” Erik made to turn back to the wall of shelves, but Charles held him back.

 

“Don't worry, the movie will not manage to distract me from you.”

 

Erik actually felt like he was blushing. Charles gently pushed him to sit down on the couch, before he popped the DVD in the player and turned on the big flat-screen TV.

 

Erik leant back, waiting, not wanting to make himself comfortable yet. 

 

Charles came back and plopped down on the couch beside him and sliding back, so he could lean against the backrest. Erik craned his neck to look over his shoulder, since Charles seemed to have moved behind him. Before Erik could wonder, how best to go about cuddling up against Charles, Charles had leant forward. His hot breath spilled against Erik's ear, making Erik shiver. “Come here.”

 

Erik moved back with Charles, until he could rest against him. Charles slid his arm around Erik's chest, holding him close. Erik allowed himself a little sigh of pleasure and put his hand over Charles' arm. He couldn't keep his fingers still though, tracing the scars and taut muscles. In answer Charles pulled him a little closer still.

 

Erik's eyes were on the TV-screen where the opening credits rolled to the sound of fanfares, but his real attention was on Charles.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putting things into perspective. Erik is at work, though his mind isn't. Charles meets his sister, who gets curious.

Erik was at work. He sat at his desk, staring intently at his computer screen, were the program was making an intricate structural engineering calculation. It was one of the things in his job as an architect he was glad to leave to the computer. Usually. Today he wanted nothing more than to take the piece of metal and electronics and throw it out the window, for the result the computer calculated was definitely wrong – again!

 

Erik growled and went through the numbers he had typed in once more, checking and double checking them with what he had noted down before. 

 

First time round the calculations went wrong he found there was a comma missing. One he was sure he had typed in. Clearly the keyboard was faulty. On the second try, the calculations were still wrong. He had to admit that the fault lay with him that time. He had switched two of the numbers, putting the structure density in the field for the maximum strain and vice versa. But he had corrected that and checked all the numbers again. So what was wrong now?

 

He wished it was already Thursday. Thursday evening to be precise. He had another date with Charles then. He had felt conflicted as Charles had told him, that he had a rather busy schedule and would only be available Thursday. He had wanted to see Charles again soon. Yet he didn't want to come across as needy or pushy. So he had smiled and agreed, consoling himself that it would be for the best. Put some distance between him and Charles would make it possible for him to not fall into this – whatever this was. 'No use getting to attached... Still have to make up my mind about what I want anyway. And then there is the question what Charles wants. Heck I don't even know him properly yet.'

 

But the time spent with Charles had just felt so – right.

 

He'd never thought he would have so much fun watching an old movie. But Charles and he had made fun of the strange costumes, laughed at some of the scenes, where hundreds of extras pretended to be a forceful army of gladiators and slaves, comparing those to modern day computer generated mass scenes. Actually they argued about that one, Charles' saying he preferred the real live masses of people, while Erik argued pro modern technology. He was certain he would have been able to convince Charles, actually Charles had been to some of the points he had been making, but then Charles had kissed him. 

 

They missed rather a good part of the film because of that. 

 

But they did pay the appropriate attention to the snails or oysters scene.

 

“What if I hadn't recognised the quote and thought you were talking about the actual food?”

 

“I would have tried for another way to find out your preferences.”

 

“Another movie quote?”

 

“Maybe, though I can't think of any now. Perhaps I would have just grabbed your ass.” Charles had said it so nonchalantly that Erik wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

 

“Right there in front of the camera?”

 

Charles had shrugged. “Well it's not like the show is life. They would have always been able to cut that out, should I have – miscalculated – and you had slapped me in the face.”

 

Erik had looked at him incredulously. Charles had smiled and leant closer. “You were worth that risk.”

“Hey, Lehnsherr, what are you grinning at? Got the calculations finished?” The voice coming from the door to his office, jolted Erik out of his daydreams. 

 

He looked up at his colleague, Munoz, looking amused. Erik grumbled something. “Almost. Just got to find the bug that messes with it.”

 

“Need any help.”

 

“No!”

 

“All right. Just please get them to me within the hour. I want to leave early today. Got a date.”

 

Glumly Erik focused back on the screen. “Yeah, sure. I'll bring them over as soon as I got them.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

As Munoz left Erik sighed, then looked at the calender on his desk. Still two days to go. He stood up, paced to the big office windows and looked outside.

 

He shouldn't focus so much on Charles and that one date. Charles might get bored – he might get bored after a while. 'We don't really know each other yet. All the bad stuff might still come out. Like with Magda...' Erik rubbed his hand over his face and went back to his desk.

 

He looked down at the screen of his computer, still showing the incorrect calculation. Then he noticed an empty field in the calculation columns. “Fuck!” He sat down, quickly typing in the number he had missed.

 

xxx

 

Charles sat in the little café, listening to his sister telling about her latest exhibition. “Pity you couldn't come to the opening.”

 

“Yes. But you know Emma, she always likes to procure some spontaneous book signings and appearances in other cooking shows. Says it leaves a better impact when the press it writing about it when it says: now! Instead something like, in a months time! Plus the press prefers to write about 'surprise appearances' than well planned and announced ones. The latter lacking in drama.”

 

Raven tilted her head to one side. “I know, she told me once, like in food, the news and publicity have to be fresh! Still, wouldn't want to have her as my manager though.”

 

“You couldn't afford her anyway,” Charles teased, and conceded at his sisters pouty face. “Yet.”

 

“Hm. But having her as your manager messes terribly with your social life. You could have met some new people … I mean, my art appeals to a wide variety of women... and men.” She looked innocently over the cup of her caffe latte.

 

“Raven! I told you – no, I am sure I actually forbade you to ever try and set me up with one of your friends or acquaintances again!” Charles tried to look stern. But while he had no problem instilling the rule that his word was law in his apprentices, his sister always seemed to think he never meant what he said.

 

“It's hardly my fault that your flirting is so terrible that you scared off Angel. As for Janos, I still have no idea what you didn't like about him.”

 

“He was a spoiled a...” Just in time Charles remembered that his sister was still friends with the man. He sighed. “Look, let's not get into that.” He hadn't wanted to say anything, but maybe it would get Raven of his back. “Anyway I happen to be quite capable to find myself a date. Despite – or rather – because of my 'terrible flirting', as you like to call it, ”

 

“Ha! When and how? You hardly leave your kitchen.”

 

“That is not true. I very much do...” But she waved a dismissive hand at Charles' protest. 

 

“What I mean is, all you do is work. No surprise all the nice people I introduce you to, run off after a few weeks.”

 

Charles smirked. “Whatever you think, I have met someone and I am dating him.”

 

Raven sat up ramrod straight. “You do? Who is he? Tell me everything!” Her eyes had taken on an unholy glint.

 

“Not much to tell yet. I only know him for...well, not even a week. His name is Erik. He...” Charles took a moment to think of Erik. It was not only his looks he liked, though he had a body to die for and when he smiled, it was infectious and so full of warmth. He was curious, Charles felt like Erik was really curious about what Charles did. And that he did not only see as Charles skills as a way to get treated to nice food all the time. Working together with Erik in the kitchen had felt – right. There was a natural understanding there. Erik had tried to help but didn't seem to mind given all the mundane tasks. And of course there was the way Erik seemed to melt whenever Charles got a hold of him. He was so responsive, passionate...

 

There was a loud clinking sound as Raven put her glass down. The sound brought Charles back from his musings and he found his sister staring openmouthed at him. “Oh my, your face! I never thought I see that happen. You!” She pointed a finger at him. “Are totally in love!”

 

Charles looked disbelieving at her. “What?!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone says, Mondays are bad. But for Erik, Thursday is worse.  
> Some angry angsty overthinking Erik in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos. Glad so many like this little fic. Sorry this update is so small. Next chapters will be longer again.

Thursday – finally. Erik couldn't remember when it was the last time, that he was waiting so eagerly for a specific day. Yet the day seemed hell bent in making him regret he even got up. It started with the coffee machine in the office having broken down. And duo to a meeting with a client, who was happy to sip on some weak herbal tea, while Erik explained the two drafts for a planned shopping mall, he missed the coffee – run to the closest coffee shop his colleges organised.

 

The next chance for coffee was at noon, which seemed still ages away. Which made the evening and his date with Charles appear like an eternity to wait for.

 

Erik tried to concentrate on work, making the requested adjustment to the mall project. If only it weren't so dull. He would love some challenge designing something new and intricate like a hotel maybe. Or the home for some super rich celebrity. Though only, if he didn't have to deal with said celebrity personally.

 

Ok, who knew, celebrities were only people after all. They might be nice and listen to advice from their architect... Charles was nice.

 

Erik let his forehead hit the tabletop – gently. So much for concentrating on work.

 

His phone chirped, distracting him for the moment. He picked it up and checked for messages. He smiled as he saw the picture of Charles pop up, the one Charles had sent him after Erik had first called him. One missed phone call and one recorded voicemail it said. Erik glowered at the phone. He was sure it hadn't rung. 

 

He had missed a chance to talk to Charles before the evening! Maybe he could call back.

 

Maybe he should check the voice message first.

 

Erik held the phone close to his ear, as the flat voice announce that he had one new message. He held his breath.

 

“Erik, this is Charles.” There was a tiny pause. “I'm sorry Erik, but I have to cancel tonight. My manager scheduled a book presentation for the evening.”

 

Then there was sudden screaming and yelling coming from the background, Charles swearing under his breath. “What the hell...” Then he could hear someone talking in the background. “It's Alex, he tried to flambé the duck by himself.”

 

“What!? But I told him not to!” Charles sounded exasperate. Then he was speaking directly into the phone again. “Sorry. I'll call you for another date.”

 

The message ended with a sharp beep. Erik’s heart sank. Slowly he took the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen that had gone dark. His throat suddenly felt tight and he pressed his lips together. 

 

All right – wasn't that what he'd had to expect from dating someone like Charles. Charles was a celebrity after all. He had different obligations...

 

But there was a tiny taunting voice that seemed to grow louder in his consciousness. Could he even call it dating yet. Basically they had met by chance once, then went on a date – once. Given it had been a rather intense date, that ended with them sleeping together.

 

Erik put the phone back on the table. 'You knew it from the start. Something that fast and intense would have to end as quick as it started. '

 

'He only said he couldn't make it today. He'll call...'

 

'He could have suggested another day and time straightaway. Something on the weekend.'

 

'Too much effort?'

 

There would be a couple of more dates and then it would become too much effort to maintain...

 

'And that's all right. I don't want....' 

 

Angrily Erik marched over to the door, grabbing his jacket, that held his wallet, on the way. He just reigned himself in and stuck his head into Munoz's office. “I'm going on my lunchbreak.”

 

“Huh... but it's only 11.”

 

“I need coffee! - And a walk. I'll catch up on the work in the evening. Got nothing planned after all.” He didn't wait for an answer from his perplexed college and headed for the stairs. He didn't feel like standing still long enough to take the elevator.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday, Erik still has no message from Charles, and now he has some doubts.

It was Friday. The sky was grey and promised rain. Erik dragged himself in to work. He had slept badly that night. His mind had been unable to settle down and whenever he managed to drop off, his dreams were sharp and vivid, revolving around Charles. Charles picking him up for the cancelled date, Charles calling him and something was wrong with the connection and he couldn't understand half he was saying, him going to Charles' book presentation and once there he realised he was naked.

 

Clearly he needed to clear up the situation. Erik had reached for his phone, but then he hadn't been able to decide. Should he tell Charles, that he felt that this wasn't working out? That he wanted to see him? That he didn't know what he wanted?

 

In the end Erik had put the phone back down and rolled around, burying his face in his pillow. And now he sat at his desk at work, face buried in a cup of coffee, or as close as he was able to, without actually burning himself. He inhaled the scent. He should go and thank Munoz properly, for buying that new coffee machine. All he had managed as a mornings greeting was a tired nod.

 

The coffee was the only bright spot though. The day dragged on, not helped by his lack of sleep. Though he told himself he wouldn't, he checked his phone. There was no call from Charles though, and Erik started to wonder, if he should have called back after all. Or texted him at least. Something like 'Ok. Just tell me when you'll be free again.' Or maybe something a bit more flirty. Maybe he should have asked where the book-presentation was and gone to meet him there, like he dreamt – wearing something smart, something that would catch Charles' eye. Though going naked like in his dream sure would have ensured the latter.

 

'I'm messing it up again.'

 

Erik looked at the picture of Charles, then opened a message to him, but couldn't come up with anything to text now.

 

Erik felt more awake in the afternoon and stubbornly refused to go home early. He hoped that, when he got home, he would just fall into bed and manage to sleep till late Saturday morning. Maybe he should visit his mother. Not that he saw himself able to talk to her about Charles. But she usually knew when something was wrong with him and, even if she couldn't get Erik to talk about it, managed to cheer him up.

 

So he ended up calling his mother in the afternoon and, without having to say much, got an invitation for lunch. He felt a little better as he hung up and managed to actually get some work done.

 

xxx

 

There was a knock at the doorframe to his office. The door stood open, as always. It was a rule in the firm, 'open doors' unless you had a meeting or you were working on something so crucial, that you really should not be disturbed. Also noone knocked. He looked up, frowning.

 

Munoz was standing in the doorframe, looking nonchalant. He had his coat on, clearly ready to call it a day. “Are you planning to work much longer?”

 

Erik shrugged. “Thought I could still finish this. Why? Is there something you need?” He had managed a heartfelt 'thank you' over lunch, which made Munoz waved off. Still h felt a little indebted because of the coffee-machine, though of course the whole department profited from it. But it really had been lifesaving to Erik today.

 

Munoz tilted his head, eyes growing a little wider in disbelieve. “You sure?” Then he shook his head, grinning. “Really Lehnsherr, your enthusiasm for your work might be admirable, but forgetting your date...” he tskd. Erik looked baffled. “My what?”

 

Munoz stepped aside. In the hallway behind him stood.. “Charles!”

 

Again Erik was hit by that surreal feeling. Charles was here at his office.

 

Charles who sure was busy.

 

He watched as Charles smiled at Munoz. “Thank you for showing me to Erik's office.”

 

“No problem. Have a nice weekend – you too Erik.” he called over his shoulder before he walked out.

 

Erik got up, mumbling something as reply surely noone could catch.

 

Charles hat come closer. He tilted his head to one side, looking at him quizzical. “Hello Erik. I'm sorry for this – intrusion.”

 

“How did you know where I work.” Of all the things Erik had on his mind, that was the one thing he said first. He cringed inwardly.

 

“You told me, remember. I just googled the address.” Charles looked a little guilty. “Hope you don't think me one of those weird stalkers.”

 

Erik had to laugh. That had been exactly what he had been thinking that Charles should worry about with him. Giving away his phone number without properly knowing him.

 

The laugh made Charles smile. He moved up to Erik, his arm slipping around Erik's waist and his lips brushed against Erik's mouth. “I'm terribly sorry for yesterday – standing you up like that.”

 

“You did call me to cancel.” Erik's hand came to rest on Charles shoulder leather-clad shoulder. Then he slipped his fingers under it, letting them rest where he could feel the warm body under the baby-blue shirt. His fingers dug gently into the muscles there.

 

Charles gave a pleased sigh. “Yes. But thinking back to it, the way I did it, I realised it was not very smooth. And since you didn't text back – well I feared I had messed this up.”

 

Charles had – what?

 

Erik slowly breathed out, bracing himself. “Actually – I was a little disappointed. I was very much looking forward to seeing you again. Just later I realised I should have texted you – or tried to call.”

 

Charles blue eyes shone brightly. “Then let me make it up to you. I have pressured my manager to keep this weekend free for me. And I rescheduled my obligations for tonight. So, Erik, what would you say about starting the weekend early – with me - and I'll try to make up for the bungled date the next two days, and nights.”

 

Erik felt a little shocked. “But you said, Friday night you always cook yourself in one of your restaurants.”

 

“Yes.” Charles smirked. “And as you noted correctly, they are _my_ restaurants. So I am free to reschedule.” Charles moved closer, crowding Erik back against his desk. “Though I take my work and my obligations very serious. But I consider this an emergency.”

 

Erik became very aware of the warm body pressed against his, noting that their little height difference, did not came to play in the leg area. Charles crotch was pressed perfectly against his and Charles moved his hips, rubbing himself against him. Erik felt himself grow hard.

 

“So what do you say?”

 

“I...” He didn't really know how to respond. Moaning shamelessly seemed to be as good a reply as any. But then he reminded himself, that he was still in his office, still at work, with the door open. “Charles, let's not do this here! I work here!”

 

Charles looked disappointed, but he stopped and drew back, letting go of Erik. “I wouldn't mind doing you at my workplace.”

 

“At one of your restaurants?”

 

Charles shook his head. “My kitchen.”

 

Erik realised they were no longer touching – and he hadn't given Charles a real answer yet. Charles who looked – Erik reached out, his fingers brushing against Charles' hand, trying to entwine their fingers. “I'm glad you came.” Erik hesitated, feeling a little nervous and awkward. “And there is nothing I want more than spend the weekend with you.”

 

“I am sorry Erik, but I have to do this now.” And Charles grip on his hand tightened and he tugged him closer. Charles' free hand moved behind Erik's neck and he pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

 

Erik couldn't resist that. Anyway it was late afternoon on a Friday – time to head off into the weekend.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heading off into the weekend, means heading to Erik's apartment first where Charles discovers some things about Erik's past.

Erik felt giddy – no, that wasn't right. He didn't do giddy! Drunk maybe. At the same time, it was like his heart had been sliced open. Only a shallow cut, but it was enough to hurt and let the emotions, he had barred away, bleed out slowly.

 

He looked over at Charles, walking beside him. There were tiny droplets of rain caught in his hair, but Charles didn't seem to mind the slight drizzle.

 

They were headed back to Erik's apartment to fetch some of his things. Though Charles had made it clear, he wouldn't mind if Erik spent the whole weekend naked – or in a borrowed set of Charles' clothes. But then he seemed quite curious about Erik's place. 

 

'This is crazy!'

 

He pulled his hand free of Charles', who looked over at him, unspoken question in his eyes.

 

Erik slid his arm around Charles' shoulder, pulling him closer. Charles grinned. It took a moment for them to match their strides, but then Charles moved his arm around Erik's waist and they fell into step.

 

“How was that book presentation going?”

 

“Good. Lots of people there. I always wonder how my manager does it, with these short notice appearances. But it's like she has some sort of mental-network going, where she just has to send out one thought and everyone flocks to the occasion.”

 

“You make her sound scary.”

 

“Oh she can be.” Charles paused to think. “No, strike that. She is. Otherwise she wouldn't be able to make me cancel a date with you.”

 

The words sent a wave of warmth through Erik's body. “Next time we can just move the date to whatever occasion you have to make an appearance at.” Erik felt foolish now. He could have saved himself from a sleepless night, if he hadn't been so damn pessimistic.

 

“Like – my official date.” Charles eyed him from the corner of his eyes.

 

Erik blinked. “Oh. I hadn't thought about it like that. I mean, only if you...” He felt the grip of Charles' hand on his hip tighten. 

 

“I'd love you to.”

 

The walk from the underground station to Erik's apartment wasn't long. There was a bus line going the same way, but Erik always preferred to walk, instead of getting into the crowded bus after the underground ride. Walking the same distance with Charles in his arm, made the walk appear to pass in no time at all.

 

Up in his apartment, Erik left Charles in his living room while he went to pack some things. Toothbrush, razor, underwear, ...pyjamas... well he probably wouldn't need those. He eyed his sweatpants and running shoes. He didn't want to plan the weekend ahead, just see what they wanted to do. Charles seemed to get enough of schedules and have them cancelled and changed at short notice. So he just threw everything in he thought he might need and see.

 

Finally he changed into something more casual than for work, jeans and T-shirt.

 

When Erik returned to the living room, he found Charles in front of one of the bookshelves, where he kept the framed photos. 

 

Erik hesitated a moment, but then walked closer. “I'm ready.”

 

“Mhm...that photo of your mother, was that taken in Europe?”

 

Reluctantly Erik walked closer. The picture Charles was looking at showed his mother standing on a bridge, with houses lining a river, a green tree and another wooden bridge in the background. “Yes, in Germany, Nürnberg.” But Erik was sure, the photo Charles' really wanted to ask about was 'the other one'. The one that made Erik feel guilty whenever he looked at it, but couldn't make himself put away. 

 

He should give Charles an explanation.

 

Before the silence between them could become awkward, Charles' fingers lightly touched the frame of the other photo as he said. “I like your smile – you look genuinely happy here.”

 

“I was – or thought I was. That is my ex-wife.” 

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I was just... curious. So the girl is your daughter?”

 

“Was.” Erik's voice cracked.

 

Puzzled Charles looked at him.

 

“Anya. She was my daughter. She died.” There. He had said it. 

 

Charles put a hand on his shoulder. He looked surprised, shocked maybe. There clearly was a question there, but he seemed reluctant to voice it. 

 

Erik looked away, at the photograph. His throat felt tight, but he forced himself to speak.“ Magda and I broke up shortly after her death. She blamed me. For not being there for her and for our daughter.” Erik had to swallow hard before he could go on. “I had been made partner in an architecture company. Shaw, my boss, sent me all across Europe for commissions. I was barely home, but I was so proud at what I had achieved in my job. When Anya was diagnosed with cancer - I wasn't there. I didn't take a day off to be with her and Magda when she went from doctor to doctor, then to all the therapy sessions.” Erik pressed his lips together, remembering how Shaw had talked him into believing that he couldn't be of any help anyway. That he should concentrate on work. His work was first priority. He had to keep at it, or he could loose the partnership as easily. 

 

God, how stupid he had been. Believing that ass-hole. He didn't put all blame with Shaw, though it would be easier. He shouldn't have believed a word he said in the first place. “I was on a business-trip, when Anya died.” 

 

He had to close his eyes, they started to burn treacherously. 

 

Suddenly he was pulled into a warm embrace and Charles was rubbing soothingly over his back.

 

God, had he really just spilled his darkest life story to Charles. He tried to pull free of the hug. “I'm sorry. That's not... I didn't want to burden you with that story. It's in the past.”

 

“No, Erik. Thank you for sharing this with me.” Charles loosened the embrace, but still kept his hands on him. They felt warm and Erik was reluctant to admit, he didn't want him to let go completely. “It's nothing you can just brush off.” Charles took another long look at the photograph. Erik couldn't. Not now. He was staring down at the ground. “In the picture you all look happy though – your daughter, and your ex-wife.”

 

“It was taken when we were on holidays in Italy. My mother shot the picture, she came with us on the trip.” Erik just now remembered that little detail. He looked at Charles. “I haven't thought about that - for some time.” His thoughts only revolved around what he had lost, when he looked at it. 

 

He kissed Charles. Just a chaste touch of lips, but it made the last of the tension drain from his body. He raised his hands, running them down Charles' arms, taking hold of Charles' hands.

 

So far Erik never had told any of his dates about Anya and Magda. For one, because none of the guys he had dated, had lasted long enough for the subject to be breached. For another, because he was sure it would put his dates off, knowing about the baggage he came with. 

 

And here he was, telling Charles who he knew for a week... and Charles was still here.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles POV – but instead of deep and meaningful insights into his thoughts, you get sex. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for the lovely comments, many kudos and bookmarks. You guys have me dancing with joy.

Charles didn't have every weekend off. That's not how things went, when you worked as a Chef. Being a successful Chef though meant that he could delegate some of the work to others, but there were still weekends, and even more evenings, when he was in the kitchen in one of his restaurants.

And then there were the mornings, afternoons and evenings, where he was to appear on some TV-show other than his own – sometimes ones, that didn't even focus on cooking, but had a one time cooking theme or sometimes an even more obscure tie in to cooking, that made the producers want him on the show. In the end, Charles felt, the time he had to himself seemed to shrink with the growing fame. Or maybe it was just becoming more unpredictable, and harder to grasp. As a result, he appreciated the time he had to himself more. Or time he could spend with someone like Erik.

So it was nice to wake up to a lazy weekend, finding Erik carefully tracing the scars on Charles arm with his fingers. Charles enjoyed just watching him. Erik looked completely focused, like nothing else was important.

 He reached out for Erik, who looked up surprised, but let himself be pulled in for a kiss.

 “Good morning.”

 “Mhm, Morning. You don't want to get up right away, do you?” Erik's fingers kept on touching and tracing the scarred skin.

 “No, this feels nice.” Charles sank back into the pillows.

 “Good.” Erik bent down and his lips brushed over Charles' arm, while his hands took a firmer hold and Erik braced himself on his own arms.

 Charles sighed. “Very nice. Oh...”

 Erik's tongue traced one angry red scar, swirling gently at where it ended in the bend of Charle's arm. Then he placed a gentle kiss there, slightly sucking at Charles' skin.

 “Makes me wish I had scars on other parts of my body, too.” Charles teased, though his voice sounded a little breathless.

 

Erik stayed, head bent over Charles' arm, and only raised his eyes to look at him. Lust washed through Charles. He reached out with his free hand, traced a finger across Erik's cheek. Erik turned his head to kiss the hand. “I can explore your freckles instead. I like those.”

 “But you wont be able to feel them.” Charles buried his hand in Erik's sleep-tossled hair. He liked the feel of it, it was just long enough to grab.

 “I'll just imagine that your skin is special sensitive, where you have many freckles.”

 Charles raised an eyebrow at that theory, but then Erik let one hand wander. He gasped as fingers teasingly traced over his nipples. “I see. Yes, that sounds plausible.” Erik's hand slid further down.

 He watched Erik through half closed eyes, as he started to kiss his arm again, while his fingers touched his cock. The touch was teasingly light making Charles lift his hips. Like on an afterthought Erik's long fingers finally wrapped around Charles' slowly growing erection.

 Charles sighed, but Erik was stroking him slowly, like he was only teasing him. Charles felt like he was floating in a sea of arousal, something he could enjoy for hours and at the same time, it had him crave for more.

 

Erik's thumb suddenly drew small circles over the tip of Charles' cock, making him gasp, his grip in Erik's hair tightening involuntarily. Erik looked at him, grinning. Charles bit his lip, then tugged at Erik's hair, more gently though. “Come here.”

Erik followed the prompt most eager and let himself be pulled closer for another kiss. Charles couldn't help thinking, that most of his dates had more or less resented him taking charge. All the guys his sister had tried to set him up with, and some of the women too. They always looked kinda taken aback. Like it didn't fit in with the 'sweet boy' image they had of Charles. It definitely made things in bed rather awkward.

Charles used both hands on Erik's head to stop him, and pull him back a little so he could look up at him. Erik's greyish eyes were searching his. “I'm sorry for not giving all of you my full attention. Only I wanted to touch and kiss your arms since...actually since the first time I saw you on TV. - God, that sounds creepier than I thought it would.” Erik wanted to hang his head in embarrassment but Charles didn't let him.

 

“Oh, but I like it - so you have been fantasizing about me?” Charles teased, watching delighted as the words made Erik's face look even more flushed.

 “Yes. But you are way better in real, than what I could come up with in my head...”

 

Charles pulled Erik closer for another kiss, his thumbs brushed over Erik's cheeks while his tongue explored his mouth. Slowly his fingers traced down to Erik's neck, feeling the quickened pulse under his fingertips, before moving on to his shoulders. He wanted to feel more of him.

 It didn't take much more then a gentle prod, for Erik to move back, letting go of Charles (something Charles regretted for a short moment) before he could push Erik back onto his back. Erik showed a wanton expression on his face, as Charles slid one leg between Erik's, nudging them apart. Then he moved on top of him, shifting till he settled between his legs, his erection pressing against Erik's groin. Erik had been half hard already and he seemed to very much agree with the change of position.

 

Charles rubbed himself against Erik, making him moan. Charles caught that with another kiss, resting his body on top of Erik's lean frame, feeling him breath, his heart beat and the heat of his body.

 Bracing himself on one hand, Charles slid the other over Erik's shoulder, along his arm, noting as Erik twitched involuntarily. 'Hm, ticklish there.' he thought before his hand found Erik's and he entwined their fingers. Erik arched up against him, drawing a moan from Charles' mouth. “Feels so good.” He tightened his grip on Erik's hand and pushed back against his body. Erik's eyes had drifted shut in pleasure.

 “Open your eyes for me.”

 Charles caught Erik's gaze as he did as he was told. He had thought he preferred warm, chocolate brown eyes, but Erik's grey ones were mesmerizing, with a hint of blue or green, he couldn't really tell. For a moment Erik's gaze flickered away. Charles gently nipped at Erik's lips to draw his attention back to him.

Slowly Erik gave in and relaxed back against the mattress, a wicked glint in his eyes. Before Charles could grind down on him again, he moved his free hand between them, reaching for both their cocks.

 

“Ah, yes...” The way Erik's long fingers wrapped around his erection, the feel of Erik's own hard cock, pressed against his, made him almost dizzy. He started thrusting into the hand.

 Charles bent his head, trying to get a look at their cocks, locked in Erik's grip. “God I love your hands.”

 Charles felt Erik's hot breath against his temple, and then Erik's mouth and tongue, teasing his earlobe. “Just my hand?”

 “And your cock... your deliciously tight ass.” Smirking Charles heard Erik's soft gasp. “Not forgetting your mouth and tongue...” Of which Charles had had the pleasure last evening to make most intimate acquaintance with, and the mere memory made him jerk his hips, making Erik nearly loose his grip and laugh breathlessly.

 “You liked that...” Erik's hand stilled. “Do you want me to...”

 “No, Erik, don't stop. This feels so good.” He let go of Erik's hand, reaching down to make sure Erik didn't let go of their erections, wrapping his hand over Erik's. Touching himself, touching Erik, it felt even better, even more intimate.

 “Charles, oh yes, like that.” Gasping Erik tilted his head back, offering his throat. Charles licked over the sensitive skin. It tasted slightly salty and hot. He started sucking at it, not bothering if he left any marks and by the sound Erik made, he didn't much care either.

 

Their combined strokes started to grow faster, more urgent. Charles searched Erik's lips with his, kissing him sloppily, moving his tongue in and out of Erik's mouth, tonguefucking him. Erik moaned into the kiss nearly biting Charles tongue as he came all over their hands and his belly. Charles didn't let go yet, smearing Erik's come all over his cock with each stroke of their hands. “Just.. a bit more.”

 Erik buried his hand in Charles hair, pulling him down for another open-mouthed kiss that left Charles dizzy, as he finally came.

 

Charles collapsed on top of Erik with a groan, sated, dazed - and with his right arm starting to complain for having had to keep up his weight the whole time. Carefully he rolled off Erik, trying to move into something of a more comfortable position. Though he noted how Erik was only reluctant to let him go. “Everything alright?”

 “Yes, just my stupid arm seems to be unable to decide, if it has gone to sleep or cramp up.”

 Erik wiped his hands on his belly, then reached for his arm, gently running his hands over it. They still were a little sticky with their come, but Charles couldn't care less as slowly Erik started to dig his fingers into his aching muscles, and his arm started to loosen up. They needed a shower anyway.

 Charles sighed. “... that's good.”

 Erik continued to massage and caress his arm for some time, and Charles felt himself relax and grow drowsy.

 “Can't have your livelihood ruined.” Erik teased after some time.

 Charles turned his head to look at him. “Hard to explain to my manager that the reason for my inability to work anymore, was mind-blowing sex.”

 Now Erik grinned like, well actually Charles thought he had seen some animal with a grin that dangerous, but he couldn't remember which. “You look like you plan to eat me.” He stated with a little frown.

 Erik raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Well I have been thinking about something _like_ that – after breakfast.”

 Charles laughed. “And there I thought you wanted my body more than my cooking, and planned to not let me out of bed the whole day.” Though really, he didn't mind cooking for Erik – and with Erik. “But all right – though we need a shower first.” He sat up and made to move out of bed. “And then – making breakfast, where I'll get to order you around as my lowly kitchen-helper.”

 

Suddenly Erik wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, pressing his face against his back. “Sounds only fair.” He placed a kiss at the nape of Charles' neck. “I'll be your willing kitchen-slave.”

 Charles grinned. He liked the sound of that.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles want to spend the weekend together. Too bad Erik forgot that he already had a date.  
> Charles' POV

Charles was cleaning up his kitchen. Erik had offered to help, but despite it being tedious work, it went faster when he did it alone, knowing where everything was supposed to be stored. Having to tell Erik where everything went - well it was simply faster when he did it himself. 

 So Erik had gone to explore the terrace.

 Charles mused that he had never had sex out there. It was still a bit to fresh for his taste, but in summer... 

 

Charles put the last items back where they belonged and did a quick wipe down of the kitchen counter. Simple routine, leaving his mind free to wander. 

Maybe his sister was a little bit right and he actually had fallen for Erik a bit. He at least would like to try and continue seeing Erik. Actually, it had felt decidedly easy so far – even with the bungled date on Thursday. Erik had forgiven him quickly and making sure he had the weekend off hadn’t been that bothersome, really.

 He just hoped this wasn't pitching Erik's expectations too high. He couldn't stay away from work every weekend. Having himself been too busy for his wife and kid in the past, would Erik understand or find it unacceptable. And that was the other thing. Still having that picture there in his living room, being reminded of that every day. Clearly he wasn't over it – or was it some form of self torture? Charles would have to ask him how long in the past the death of his daughter lay.

 Charles frowned. Did he really want to deal with all that? He braced his arms against the counter, pursing his lips, while he looked in the general direction of the living room.

 

“Shit!”

 The loud shout startled Charles. He dropped the dish-towel and hurried over to the living-room, where he found Erik pacing erratic between the room and the sunlit terrace.

 As Erik notice him, a look of guilt crossed his face.

 “What's wrong?”

 Erik looked away, frowned, but then he shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry, I startled you. I just remembered... I've got to make a phone-call.”

 

Charles looked after Erik, who headed for the hall where he probably had left his phone in his jacket pocket. Charles contemplated to follow him. It may be rude to try and listen in on someone’s phone conversations, but really he was just concerned about Erik's strange behaviour. 'Right.'

 Erik came back though, phone already held to his ear and stepped out onto the terrace, leaving the door open. He looked nervous and tense. Charles didn't follow Erik outside but he stepped closer to the glass door.

 

“Hallo Mutti!”

 Charles pricked up his ears as he heard Erik talk in German. He clearly didn't know enough about the man yet. Among them, why Erik was reacting so peculiarly before calling his mother.

 The conversation seemed rather one-sided at first. After some nodding and affirmative noises made by Erik, he finally got a sentence in. “Yes, that's exactly why I call. I can't make it for lunch.”

 Charles watched Erik screw his eyes shut, like he was waiting for the proverbial axe to fall. Charles found himself stepping leaning out the door, not caring if it was considered rude or not. Fascinated he watched as Erik cringed, really looking like they boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar... or cookie-dough, in Erik's case.

 

“I know, I'm sorry.... I know, I said... no you are right, it's a terrible waste to … yes...I'll make it up to you.... something came up. I.. uh... Mutti, I can't... I'm on a date.... meien Güte, Mutti, no I didn't tell you, because I... this... it's complicated. He... I promise I will tell you about him...”

 So Erik had made a lunch date with his mother and now wanted to call it off because of Charles – about who he hadn't told his mother yet. Charles frowned. He felt – flattered yet he wondered why he didn't simply tell his mother who he was. Since Mrs. Lehnsherr was, well, a fan of his cooking-show, she might be more willing to let her son cancel. 

 Though - maybe. A naughty smile appeared on Charles lips, with a half-formed plan on his mind. He leant out of the door to the terrace and spoke loud and clear. “Erik, if this is you cancelling lunch with your mother, because of me, I wont accept it. Obviously you have made that date with her, before I showed up on Friday evening, and having met your mother, I have to say I really don't want to be responsible for you standing her up.”

 Erik looked at him, something like frustration and longing on his face. He didn't say anything, but Charles could make out Edie Lehnsherr on the phone. He couldn't make out what she said, but clearly her tone of voice had changed. 

 “Yes, that's him. - Yes, you really have met him before.” Erik took a deep breath. “Remember the TV-Cooking-Show we went to... yes...yes it's him - Charles Xavier.”

 

xxx

 

“You really didn't have to.” 

 “But I want to. And it's my fault, that I didn't get to you sooner about any plans for the weekend.”

 “And my fault for forgetting about lunch with my mother. I should have called her on Friday about cancelling.”

 “I do take credit for distracting you.” Charles smirked and looked over at Erik. They were sitting in the back of a taxi, headed for Edie Lehnsherr's home. 

 Erik still looked contrite. 

 

“Really Erik, you make it out like it was some big sacrifice. Remember, I met your mother before. We had a perfectly lovely conversation, so I'm really looking forward to lunch with her.”

 “But – you don't seem to get that much time off, and I'm sure you could think of something better to do, than have lunch with me and my mother.” Erik's tone spoke of defeat though.

 “Erik, I already decided I want to spend the weekend with you. And – I guess your mother wouldn't have invited me, if she had something against you dating me.”

 “No. She knows I'm bi and – but I've never brought a guy along. And we are only...” he looked over at Charles, his expression not betraying much, but by the look in his eyes Erik clearly was a little spooked. 

 

Charles reached out, to take Erik's hand in his. “I promise I'll behave. No indecent behaviour or remarks.” Erik was right though. It was a little strange to meet his date's mother. He never had before, mostly because he broke up with them (or they with him) before meeting the parents could become an issue. And he never thought about subjecting anyone to meet his own mother.

Though he guessed with Mrs. Lehnsherr it was different, since he had met her before he even dated Erik and practically he had availed himself to her help in getting in contact with Erik. Even if it was unwittingly on her part. “And I guess I own her, for giving you the book I signed for you.” 

 

Erik's eyes widened. “God, please don't tell her that!”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“She might get ideas of what else she could do!”

 

Charles laughed. He had no idea what those ideas could be. But he was curious to find out.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edie Lehnsherr- unsuspecting matchmaker extraordinaire strikes again!

“Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Lehnsherr. I'm terribly sorry for imposing on you like this.”

They were ushered into the living-room, where the dining table had already been set. Whatever Charles had imagined the place to look like, it looked different. Neither was it stuffed with cushions, comforters and swirly tapestries nor overflowing with knick-knacks. There was one display case with souvenirs, but the rest of the room was very much clutter free and made Charles think of Erik's own neat apartment. 

They sat down at the table covered by a simple white tablecloth. The only decoration was a glass vase, filled with blue forget-me-nots. 

 “Oh nonsense. I'm delighted.” Now that he knew Erik had talked German to his mother, it was easier to place her slight accent. She was wearing an apron above a mauve-coloured dress. “ I really hope you like the food. If only I had known earlier, that Erik would bring you, I'd have made one of your recipes.”

 “Then I'm glad you didn't know. I always enjoy tasting something new.” 

 “I just hope it will be enough.”

 “Mutti, stop fretting. You always prepare food for double the people actually present.” Erik interjected and was treated to a look that clearly said, he had lost the right to voice an opinion when he tried to cancel the lunch-date with her. Or for not telling her that Erik dated Charles. Probably both.

 “If not, I have to take the full blame. I sort of ambushed Erik about us seeing each other on the weekend. Sadly my manager and my schedule don't always allow for planning well ahead.” 

 “Oh, I am sure you are very busy and have many obligations, Mr. Xavier.”

 “Please call me Charles.”

 Mrs. Lehnsherr beamed. “Charles, fine. But then you have to call me Edie.”

 “My pleasure.”

 

“Erik, dear, why don't you go and get your” There was a little pause from Mrs. Lehnsherr, like it took her a little courage to say it. “boyfriend something to drink.”

Erik froze and looked at Charles. 

Charles blinked. _'Boyfriend?'_ Well he hadn't thought about Erik in that way – yet. They had only been on, well, four dates, if you counted the days. 'But then you don't take dates to lunch with your mother.' Charles smiled at Erik. “Just some water, please.”

Erik really looked like he was blushing, he stood up hastily and headed for the kitchen. 

 Charles looked after him, enjoying the view of – his boyfriends – ass. 

 

“So, tell me, you met on the show for the first time, but how did you manage to get in touch again? Erik doesn't tell me anything!”

 Erik stopped right in the entrance to the kitchen and quickly turned around. “Do you want something to drink too, Mutti?”

 “No I'm fine. But you can check on the soup and the Kreplach.” Edie turned back to Charles, looking expectantly. 

 Erik threw Charles a pleading look. Charles winked at him. Then Erik reluctantly retreated into the kitchen. 

 

Charles leant forward, lowering his voice. “Well, Edie, I have a little confession to make about that...”

 

xxx

 

Lunch was delightful. Though Erik was sulking a little, as soon as he realised that Charles had told his mother the truth about the cooking-book and the inscription.

 Charles got to talk to Erik alone for a moment, as Edie went to check on the main course in the oven. “You look like I've eaten all the cookies in the jar.” 

 “No, but I asked you not to tell her.”

 “But she asked. I couldn't think of anything else to say and really, why should I, she seems to think it quite sweet and – romantic.” Charles raised a suggestive eyebrow. “I haven't told her the details about how you rang me up in the middle of the night, waking me.”

 Erik sighed. “You're right. Still it ...” He shook his head. “And sorry, about then. It took me some time to decide, if I really should call you.”

 Charles reached across the table to capture Erik's hand. He pulled it close, brushing his lips against it. “I'm even more glad you did and getting woken from sleep seems a very small price for that. Plus I had a very nice dream about you, after.”

 Erik smiled, looking straight at him and Charles felt a little flutter inside, rising from his belly. He contemplated if Edie Lehnsherr would forgive him, if he crawled over the table to kiss her son senseless.

 

A sound from the kitchen door made them break eye-contact.

 Edie stood there, hand at her lips, looking a little flustered. “Ah... Erik, could you please help me.”

 “Natürlich Mutti.” Erik stood up and disappeared into the kitchen.

 

As both reappeared with the food – and Erik was right, there was enough to eat one or two people more than were actually present, Charles noticed Edie looking – thoughtful. Though she quickly pulled her attention around to Charles. “So, Charles, I have to admit I'm torn between wanting to ask you about some details of your recipes I had trouble with. And at the same time I fear you must be tired of answering the same things all the time.”

Charles smiled. “Oh, don't worry, if you have any trouble I'm glad to help.”

“Really, but, I don't want you to have to work on your day off.”

“You should see what Charles makes for breakfast – I swear he _loves_ to cook.” Erik interjected with a grin. 

Charles grinned back. “That's right. Just as much as I love the taste of delicious - things.” He looked at Erik and daringly licked his lips, which made the other man's eyes widen and throw a panicked look at his mother ,while Charles continued on unfazed. “Like what you made. This is really good.”

“Oh thank you.” Edie looked practically flustered, while Erik was making a gesture with his hand that could very well be interpreted as 'wrapping around your finger'. Something that did not go unnoticed by his mother. 

“Oh, Erik, stop it! You would be flattered too, if Charles Xavier complimented your cooking.”

“I really mean it. If you'll allow me, I might steal a recipe or two from you. Though I have been to Europe and tried to suck up as much from the different cooking styles there, I have never had the chance to tinker with typical Jewish recipes.”

“You have been to Europe, where to?”

 

From there, the conversation took a new direction and Edie was quizzing him about the different places he had been to, and Charles peppered the locations with different kitchen anecdotes. In between Edie told her own stories of places she had visited. 

He noticed, that she never asked him if he had been to Germany and as he brought it up himself, she threw a short sad glance at Erik and after a curt acknowledgement moved on. It left Charles feeling a little bad. After all it was not only Erik's daughter that had died, but her grandchild.

He wondered, if she minded that Erik – at the moment – seemed a far cry from giving her any more grandchildren. Or did she hope Erik dating guys was only a phase. Yet Charles felt very much welcomed by her.

As he wanted to help with clearing the table, he was firmly put back in his place. He was a guest, after all. For a moment Charles wondered what it would be like to be more than that. He looked after Edie and Erik, thinking of just wandering into Edie's kitchen with his empty plate, helping to do the wash up... 

'Boyfriend indeed.' the word seemed to have gone to his head a little. To distract himself Charles stood up and looked around.

 

He noticed there were the usual picture frames of family on the mantelpiece. He grinned as he spotted one of younger Erik, in what looked like prom-attire. Another showed Erik as a small boy. Charles was sure it was him, the wide smile was unmistakeable, though he was missing a front tooth.

Three showed what Charles guessed were relatives. There was no picture of Magda, but he recognised one of Anya. She was wearing a blued dress and held a huge red cone, closed on top with blue paper and a red bow. Beside her stood a school bag. She had a wide smile on her face that reminded Charles of Erik and though he never knew the girl, he felt a little sad to know that her bright smile was gone.

 

As Erik returned from the kitchen Charles gave him a hug, just a short one, not wanting to put Edie into too much discomfort. But he needed to touch Erik for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The paper cone Anya is holding is a Schultüte/school cone. As far as I gathered they are not that common outside Austria and Germany.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions - of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this update took longer than intended.

They were on their way back to Charles apartment via taxi. A large cardboard box sat between them. Charles was sure he could still smell the honey of the pear and honey cake Erik's mother had made for them. Well, for Erik really, but after Charles had announced that he really loved the taste of honey (making Erik all flustered again) she had given the cake to them both. His own mother had never cooked anything for him, let alone any friends – or boyfriends. Charles looked at Erik from beneath his bangs of floppy brown hair. Erik seemed to be deep in thought. Charles would have loved to scoot over and put his arm around Erik, but the cake was in the way. Charles resigned himself to wait for later.

 

Back in the apartment, with the cake safely stored away in the kitchen, Charles finally wrapped his arms around Erik and steered him toward the living room. “I know you said something about going for a run, but I feel absolutely – heavenly – full. How about we leave the exercise for later. Or tomorrow morning.”

 

Erik put his hands atop Charles. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Hm, what for?”

 

“My mother - her calling you my...”

 

“Really - Erik.” Charles laughed. “Your mother was absolutely lovely. If you don't believe me, let me introduce you to my mother. That is, chances are high, she would refuse to speak to you at all. Or – if she was feeling talkative - she'd make a scene. So really, I keep firm with my first observation. She is adorable. Even though it seemed to be, well, a little awkward for her at first. To see you with another man.”

 

“I know. I told her, but I never brought anyone home. And that's not what I meant. But her – making assumptions about us being...”

 

“Boyfriends?” Charles sat down on the couch, but kept a hold on one of Erik's hands. “Was she wrong?”

 

Erik looked down at him. Charles tried to read his face and wished he could take a peek into Erik's mind. Erik looked uncertain or even spooked. “We have only been on two dates.”

 

“That comes down to how you define dates. You should at least count each day we have seen each other. Nevertheless I didn't know there was a specific number of dates one had to – pass, before one is allowed to 'level up' to boyfriend.” Charles slowly pulled at Erik's hand, tried to pull him in. “So what do you think? Boyfriend?”

 

Erik bent his knee, slowly kneeling on the couch. Charles moved back to make room, still pulling on that hand until Erik finally moved onto the couch. Charles wrapped his arms around him, pulling Erik against him. He more felt than saw the sigh that left Erik's body. “Yes.” Charles felt that fluttering excitement again, only stronger this time.

 

“So, how do you feel about napping on the couch with your boyfriend?” 

 

Erik leant closer, still looking a little flustered. “I feel very lucky.” He brushed his lips against Charles' mouth, making him smile. “Though with you everywhere would seem fine.”

 

Charles hadn't expected such a romantic reply, still he found it sounded sweet – though Erik looked embarrassed and averted his gaze. He busied himself with moving, so he had his head resting against Charles' chest. Charles tightened his hold on Erik and gently rubbed Erik's back. Then he sighed, remembering that he wouldn't be able to spend the next weekend as comfortable and relaxed. He wondered, if Erik wouldn't start to mind. Not today, not next week, but eventually. Most of his dates had. The nagging thought stuck, so Charles gave in. “Erik?”

 

“Mhm?” 

 

“I really enjoy this. Spending time with you. So, if I can't manage a date, it's not because I don't want to.”

 

“You said as much. I'm sorry I was – well, I guess I was a little hurt.” Erik's hand was resting on Charles' arm and he moved it up to his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

 

“Same goes for weekends.”

 

Slowly Erik raised his head to look at Charles, a little frown creasing his forehead. “Did something come up for tomorrow? Or tonight?”

 

“No! No, I told you, this weekend I'm entirely yours. But for the next, I'm out of town. There is a big culinary championship in Florida.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Charles tried to decipher Erik's emotions behind that one syllable , but it was hard, since Erik had put his head back down against Charles chest.

 

“I'm sure you'll win! Are boyfriends supposed to kiss a spoon or something for luck?”

 

Charles chuckled. “Oh, me winning would be awkward. I'm on the jury.”

 

“Uh – I didn't realise.” Erik buried his head at Charles chest. “Perhaps I should still read up about you on the internet.”

 

“Oh please, don't! I'd rather answer all your questions. And as for kisses for luck, it is best to kiss me. And I'll take any luck you can give me, that my tongue wont have to taste too much offending creations cooked up by the competitors.”

 

Erik's voice was tinged with wicked amusement. “Then I have to make sure to kiss your tongue for luck.”

 

“You get what I'm saying.”

 

Erik sighed, then after a moment he ventured. “So, this means, I wont see you next week?”

 

“I'll have to check my schedule, but I have some evenings off. That is, if you don't have anything else planned. I don't want you to think that I'll expect you to drop everything, just cause I'm calling.”

 

“No, no...you are not. I don't have that many friends...“ Erik winced. “ – here – outside of work, I mean.” 

 

Charles' hands travelled up to rub Erik's neck. “How long have you been here? I mean the States. I gather you have been living in Europe for quite some time.”

 

Erik sighed. “It's complicated.” he stopped. 

 

Charles' fingers drew small circles at the nape of Erik’s neck. After some moments Erik started to talk again. “I lived with my parents in Germany until I was five, then we moved to New York. I went to university here to become an architect, until I visited lectures by one Sebastian Shaw - my future boss. He convinced me to take a term abroad. He moved over to Europe himself, to take over some architecture firm. He told me I was one of his best students and – flattered me – told me he might have a job for me, once I finished with my studies.” 

 

Charles listened interested as Erik detoured from the original question, giving him more insight into his past than Charles had hoped to get with his innocent question. 

 

Erik sighed. “I was quite – impressionable. Thought everything was running smoothly and then on top of everything I met Magda while studying in Germany … “ Erik sounded reluctant. “Sorry, that is not what you wanted to know. I moved back from Germany after – after the divorce and everything four years ago. Basically I left all friends behind...” More softly and thoughtful he added. “Though they were more Magda's friends really. She was the one keeping in touch with everyone, me being not there much.”

 

“Four years.” And still his past seemed to haunt Erik. Charles tried to remember what had been going on in his life four years ago. Nothing so dramatic as loosing ones daughter, having ones wife put blame on top of the pain of that and...

 

“I know, quite some time.”

 

“No, I mean, depends... Some experiences take longer to process.” Charles choose his words carefully. Erik had told him about his daughters death, but he was clearly reluctant to mention it now.

 

Erik shrugged. “It just took me some time to settle in. My mother lives here – but I needed to find a new job, an apartment – and my former boss was not helpful in recommendations, since....” Erik covered his face with a hand, groaning softly. 

 

Gently Charles took hold of Erik's fingers, tugging his hand closer, brushing the fingertips with his lips. “What happened?”

 

“I punched him – in the face. God, I sound awful.” Erik's voice grew almost faint. “I just felt so much rage at the time. And what he said, it just, I completely lost it.”

 

Charles could feel Erik tense. His whole body just grew taut and he didn't even seem aware of it. “From what I gathered so far, I can't feel much sympathy for that Shaw guy – though I might be biased, taking the side of my boyfriend.” _Boyfriend_. He should really stop using that word so much. But he really liked to call Erik that. _What if Raven was right._ That was a scary thought.

 

Though not as scary as Erik saying nothing in answer. Charles bit his lip. He looked down, but all he could see was the top of Erik's head. Then Erik drew back his hand from Charles' grasp, pushing himself up onto an arm, so he could look down at him. Erik's expression looked serious but there was a ghost of a smile around his lips and showing in his eyes as well. Charles gently took his chin, brushing his thumb along Erik's lips. “I do hope you don't have a reason to punch someone in the future – but if you need backup...”

 

Erik closed his eyes. Then, instead of answering with words, he moved in to cover Charles' mouth with his. For a moment Charles wondered if this was Erik's way of saying thank you, a way to distract himself from the gloomy thoughts of his past or just to shut Charles up. But then Erik's tongue sliding suggestively in and out of his mouth and the way he sucked at his lips, was too much. Charles groaned. Erik stroked his hair, the side of his face, fingers slid teasingly against his earlobe, sending sparks straight down to his groin. If Erik needed _this_ right now, he wouldn't deny him. Though he should get him to talk. That would help, right? For him to confess he still couldn't let go of his past and, open up, or something... but that would mean he would have to stop him from doing what he was doing to his neck right now... “Erik... oh, yes.”

 

Charles captured Erik's hand and moved it downwards, to his growing erection.

 

Erik nuzzled his neck, the suckled at his earlobe. “I thought you wanted to nap.”His voice sounded rough and made Charles shudder. He gasped and closed his eyes. “Mhm - this is just as relaxing.” 


	18. Chapter 18

_Call me! -C_

 

The text had been waiting on his phone as Erik came back from a meeting. He looked at it for five minutes, wondering. Everything for tonight was fixed, wasn't it?

 

So, if Charles wanted to talk to him, that could only mean, he wanted to cancel – again. Erik felt his heart sink. And this time he wouldn't get a weekend with Charles wanting to make it up to him. Erik's grip on the phone tightened, then he forced himself to relax. They could reschedule. If he stopped sulking and called him right now. He was the last person who was allowed to complain that his – boyfriend didn't have enough time. It was still odd, thinking about Charles like that and even more odd when Charles called him that. Which he did – often. But it made a warm tingling spread from the pit of his stomach.

 

_'I have to put some effort into this, to make it work.'_ Erik pushed the dial button.

 

He had his call answered on the second ring. “Oh, Erik, thanks for calling back.” Erik heard Charles take a deep breath. 

 

“No problem. You have to cancel ou- the date for tonight?” Erik thought, if he said it himself, it would make him feel more nonchalant about it. It still sucked.

 

“Yes – no. I'm sorry Erik, please know, I am not doing this on purpose. But a college got sick and I have to fill in for her. “

 

“It's all-right.” Erik heard himself say.

 

“I still want to see you!” Charles sounded insistent.

 

“After work? Wont it get late?” Despite his words, Erik started to think. What was the latest that he had to show up at work tomorrow morning? Charles' place wasn't that much farther from work than his own apartment, there were no meetings scheduled tomorrow morning...

 

“I know it's not ideal. I'd like you to come to the restaurant before, so I can at least treat you to dinner. Usually there isn't much of a crowd on Tuesday, so I might manage to sneak out of the kitchen – or even get off earlier.”

 

A smile tugged at Erik's lips. “Leaving your post in the kitchen? And that from the man who told me utter concentration was key?”

 

Charles laughed. “Using my words against me Erik, not fair. So will you come?”

 

“Yes. Same restaurant?”

 

“Uh, no. I'll text you the address.”

 

“Ok. Do you have something coming up tomorrow morning?”

 

“You!” Charles' sultry tone sent a shiver down Erik's spine. “If I'm not keeping you from work.”

 

“I can be late for an hour...”

 

“I can think of a lot to do to you in an hour.”

 

“..hour and a half.”

 

“Including breakfast then.”

 

They both laughed. 

 

“Ok. Gotta go. See you tonight.”

 

“Yes. Bye...” Before Erik could think of something more to say, Charles had hung up. But Erik a big grin on his face for the rest of the day, making Munoz comment, like he looked like something they let out of the shark tank. Erik only laughed.

 

Xxx

 

It was odd walking into a classy restaurant with a sports-bag. Though the concierge didn't bat an eyelash, but asked him for his name and then lead him to a table at the back of the restaurant. She was maybe smiling a little wider though and informed him, she would tell the Chef he was here.

 

Erik didn't bother hiding his own smile and looked around, taking in the glass and steel architecture, that had an antique touch to it. There was music playing, not too loudly, just creating a pleasant and relaxing background noise.

 

It didn't take long and he pulled a sketching pen and his little Moleskine-notebook from his bag. He didn't expect Charles to have much time to greet him, or leave the kitchen often, despite what he had said on the phone. A waiter took his order for a drink, (basically Erik let him advise him what would go best with whatever he was getting to eat) and put the order on his table, while Erik started sketching. If Charles ever wanted an architect to design a new restaurant … Erik let his imagination take over, as to what type of restaurant would appeal to Charles. Something a little different.

 

“Just because I'm working, doesn't mean you have to do the same.”

 

Erik looked up, smiling at Charles, who wore the typical white jacket and trousers, like he did in his TV-show. The sleeves were rolled up and a red shirt peeking out where the collar stood open.

 

Charles bent down to kiss him. He smelled of heat, steam and delicious food. 

 

Erik licked his lips as they parted. “You're spoiling me. I mean, hello. And it's not really work.”

 

Charles quickly pushed the chair beside Erik’s back and sat down. He let his gaze rake over Erik. “Glad you came, despite it not being the date we planned.”

 

“I still get to see you.” Erik's fingers brushed against Charles' knee, but he refrained to do more where anyone could see.

 

“I'm only wondering, do you dress that smartly for me – or the restaurant?” Charles was not that restrained. He reached for Erik's tie, fingers toying with the knot for a moment.

 

Erik licked his lips. “I have to admit, it's more for the restaurant. Except the tie.”

 

Charles looked inquiring. 

 

“Cause when I think of you, I'm thinking more about how you will undress me.”

 

Charles put his hand on Erik's leg. “Good thing I enjoy the sight of you both ways, or the undressing would start right here.” Charles leant in for another quick kiss. “Got to go back, before havoc breaks out in the kitchen. But I'll try to stay in touch.” Charles gave him a wink, before he got up and left.

 

Erik only realised what Charles meant by that last comment, as the first course was served and he found a small handwritten note carefully tucked in-between the decoration on the plate.

 

_The jacket will have to go first. But I like the waistcoat, so I'll start loosening your tie and then undo the buttons of your shirt, so I can kiss your neck and collarbones, while I bury my hand in your hair, mess it up, so you no longer look all proper, but flushed and wanton, moaning softly for me._

 

Erik's cheeks started to grow hot as he read the words. He stole a glance round, to see if no-one had noticed. But the tables were spread far enough apart and there weren't that many people – just as Charles had predicted. Still he felt oddly aware of the public place he was in, as he read the note once more, before tucking it into his Moleskine for safekeeping.

 

 

His plate had been taken away, when he noticed some commotion to his left. He turned just in time to see a couple of people – judging by their uniforms from the kitchen staff – disappear behind the screen that led to the kitchen.

 

Erik shrugged it off and turned back to his sketchbook. He stole another look at Charles' note before he intended to start sketching again, as the feeling of being watched, crept over him. He raised his gaze and, yes, there at the kitchen entrance, a single blonde head was peeking around the corner. Erik frowned. The young man was looking at him.

 

He sat up straight and looked right back, what made the young man grin and then disappear again.

 

Erik frowned. So someone in that kitchen was curious about Charles' date? He didn't quite know what to think of that, so he slowly turned back to his sketching. He couldn't help himself though and threw short glances in the direction of the kitchen entrance. If he hadn't, he probably would have missed the young woman, suddenly standing there. Small, brown hair tied back, wearing the kitchen uniform. As she caught Erik looking she vanished so quickly, that she seemed to just disappear through the wall.

 

All right. So was Charles staff checking on him? Or checking him out? Erik crossed his arms in front of his chest and leant back, keeping his eyes trained on the kitchen entrance. 

 

The next two people coming from there were waiters though, who were headed rather purposefully to their tables, but then a tall lanky looking man with glasses crept forward. He was less sneaky than his predecessors, casting his gaze around the restaurant searching until it finally stopped at Erik – and he noticed Erik staring back. 

 

The man croaked – that was the only way to describe the sound he made - before he fled back into the kitchen. Erik almost felt something like pity. But then there was some new commotion and the blonde young man was appearing for another peek at him. Erik felt like getting up and confronting him, wagering about his chances to get to the kitchen door, before the young man would flee too, making Erik look stupid just standing there. Erik could hardly barge into the kitchen and demand what the staring was all about. Suddenly there came a loud roar from the depths of the kitchen. “ALEX!”

 

Erik's eyes widened. He recognised Charles' voice, but he had not heard him that furious before. Oddly enough, he felt the shout go directly to his groin. He wondered how Charles would look, blue eyes sparkling with fury, chest heaving with angry, heaving breaths...

Erik licked his lips. He couldn't wait for Charles to get off work.

 

 

 

_As much as I like the waistcoat, I like your bare skin better. So the waistcoat is next. While I try to be patient, undoing each button slowly, once I reach the shirt, I'll just pull it out of your trousers, push it up so I can kiss your bare stomach._

_I'll run my hands down your sides while you struggle to pull the shirt over your head- I'll let my mouth wander lower, hold your hips firmly in place to mouth your cock through your trousers and pants, till you feel my hot breath against your sensitive skin._

 

The main course had come with another note. Erik felt hot and shifted uncomfortably. He wished he could take off his jacket, loosen the tie. Instead he grabbed for his glass, downing in one go. 

He put the note with the other. He wasn't sure he could deal with another note without being able to do anything about it.

  

Erik was lost in thought, so that it took him a moment to realise that the empty plate was not cleared away by one of the waiters, but a woman with brown hair and the white cooking uniform. She kept standing there for a moment, once she had taken the plates, looking at him unabashedly, like she was judging him, before marching back into the kitchen.

 

Erik stared after her. _'What the hell?'_ Now that really was getting annoying.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles should have known better. No distraction at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work had me exhausted again, so the update took longer again. So sorry. And thank you for all the comments. Wow, just wow! I'll try and get to reply to them in the next days, I just want you to know I apreciate all of them. Thank you all so very much.

 

Charles had his eyes fixed on the plates in front of him. He carefully got the still warm pastry out of their moulds and arranged them on the plates. Was Erik sketching into his little black book again?Small balls formed out of goat-chees went on top. Being with Erik was so – easy. He reached for the poached spinach, draining the water and getting it onto the cutting board, working quickly so everything would leave the kitchen still at the right temperature. He wanted more of him. Perhaps he was being selfish.

 

“Rather an unusual date. Shouldn't you be in the same room, making eyes at each other?” Moira jabbed as she passed him. Of course they all overheard when Ann, the concierge, had come in to tell him his 'date' had arrived. And it had not gone unnoticed that he had called Alex over to take care of the frying lobster. The lobster that had to be flambéed. Alex had looked like Charles had ordered him to murder a puppy for a moment. But Charles had let him recite what he had had to do next, then told him to get Hank to help him and left him to it. It was showing confidence in his abilities, right. It was a method of teaching. And if Alex set fire to the kitchen again he had every intention in letting him stay until the mess was cleaned up.

 

“Well it wasn't my idea for Jean to get sick. Believe me, I'd much rather be out there with him, than in here .” That earned him some looks. But at least Moira lost the dry teasing in her voice. “Why didn't you cancel the date then?”

 

Charles sighed. He didn't look up, putting the finishing touches on the entrées. “I already had to cancel one last week. And I'm not in New York on the weekend. Which means there are not many opportunities to see each other. So – I'm glad he agreed to this sort-of-date.”

 

There wasn't an answer to that and as he finally found a moment, to spare a glance at her, he found her looking at him oddly. Along with some other people in the kitchen - who didn't have the nerve to face his gaze directly and looked quickly away once they saw him looking.

 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 

“This sounds not quite like you.”

 

“Why? Can't I want to spend some time with my boyfriend.” 

 

“You usually don't let anyone come before your work. How long have you been seeing each other?”

 

“For about two weeks.” Charles frowned, not sure he like the way Moira looked surprised and then smiled brightly at him.

 

“Oh, this guy must be something special. I will have to check him out.”

 

And that was it. Everyone seemed to take their cue from Moira. It was a disaster. Someone always seemed to drift towards the doors to sneak a glance, leaving water to boil over, fat in pans to grow too hot, people forgetting ingredients. As if it was such a novelty for him to have a date. Even if it was the first date he brought to work when he had to work. 

 

Worst of all was Alex, who – not having burnt down the kitchen – seemed to be still stuck in an adrenalin high. It all ended in a pot of burnt almond-milk, the kitchen shrouded in a foul smelling cloud (until Hank had the presence of mind to put the ventilation on high) and Charles loosing his temper.

 

He was close to asking Erik to go ahead and wait for him at home, though it seemed unfair. But he wasn't sure he could stand one more spoilt dish or ingredient in his kitchen. Yet he still wanted to give Erik the third note he had prepared for his desert. He had hoped to get a glimpse of Erik's reaction to them, but having to avert several disasters duo to some peoples lack of concentration, he barely had time. At least there was always the fourth note, he planned to give Erik once he had him back at his own place.

 

“Hey guests aren't allowed...oh, it's you!” Alex's sudden exclamation made Charles look up. To his surprise he found Erik standing there at the entrance to the kitchen, managing to look annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. He had his hands pushed into his slim hips, and looking every bit the annoyed, spoilt guest. The sight went straight to Charles' groin. _'Oh, so you have come to file a complaint? Cause you didn't like my cooking? Let me give you a taste of something – special.'_

 

The growl in Erik's voice did not help to banish his fantasies. “Yes, it is me. And since I seem to have turned into a curiosity that needs staring at, I thought I spare you the need to oh so stealthily sneak up on me once more. I don't know what you find so fascinating about me that you find it justifiable to leave your post in the kitchen.”

 

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Charles mouth.

 

Alex looked aghast. “Hey, who do you think you are to lecture me?”

 

“Someone who heard Charles yell what, I guess, was your name.” Erik answered in a dry tone.

 

Charles stifled a laughter. He wiped his hands on a dish-towel and went over to Erik.

 

Erik started to look a little embarrassed, as he saw Charles coming closer. He seemed to realise, that Charles might have objections about him barging in here. “Charles, I'm sorry for invading your kitchen...”

 

Charles put his arm around Erik. “It's ok. Though you will have to bear with me now.” He turned to sweep the room with his gaze. “Everyone. Now that you have all had the chance of a good look at Erik, please stop harassing my boyfriend. And if we all could go back to work I would be very grateful. We have a kitchen to run – and Erik is still missing his dessert because you tarry.” He was distracted as Erik leant closer, speaking softly for his ears only. “And you...” 

 

Charles grinned. “Who says I didn't mean me?” Erik felt warm and solid and Charles leant a little closer.

 

“Charles,” Moira's voice was tinged with amusement. “we _ALL_ have to get back to work and can't ogle your boyfriend some more.”

 

“I'm with you right away.” As he turned his attention back to Erik, he couldn't miss the scowl. 

 

“She is one to talk. She came to my table playing waiter!”

 

“Want to stay and watch for a bit?” Charles asked on an impulse. He hadn't meant to, but he didn't want to let Erik out of his sight just yet.

 

Erik's eyes lit up. “I'd love to.”

 

x

 

Finally proceedings seemed to get back on track and everyone was working with their usual efficiency. Erik stood on one end of the kitchen, back against the tiled wall, very conscious in the way he made sure he was in no ones way. Charles looked up, meeting Erik's gaze. Did Erik think about the notes he had written him? He hadn't said anything about them – though that might just be for lack of an opportunity. Perhaps he should make Erik read them out loud later, when they were alone, so he could see his reaction, and feel it – while he was doing to Erik exactly what he had described in the notes, stopping when Erik stopped reading. _'Sweet torture.'_ Erik soon would look dishevelled and wanton – god how much he wanted to run his hands through Erik's hair and his tongue over his skin...

 

Suddenly Erik's eyes widened. He made to step forward, nearly running a passing Hank over. 

 

It took a moment for the sharp pain in Charles' left hand to register.

 

The pain sucked. The blood he was dribbling over the ingredients and the steel counter sucked more. He had to yell, again, for everyone to calm the fuck down. Moira didn't make a fuss and quickly had the first aid kit at hand. She helped him to get his hand under a stream of cold water without leaving a trail of blood everywhere. He hated to cut his hand. It always caused him bleeding like a stuck pig and it made moving the hand a pain in the ass. And of course, he needed to move his hand, his fingers... Glad he hadn't cut one of them. It was even worse working with a band-aid on his finger, that would only get wet and peel off within minutes anyway.

 

After everyone had settled down – yes, he had cut himself. Yes he had let himself be distracted for a moment, happened to the best . He gritted his teeth. He had to admit to himself, that having Erik in the kitchen was a bad idea, when all he wanted to do was get Erik home - into his bed – out of his clothes... He looked down at his hand, where now a big white gauze pad was strapped over the cut, then up to Erik. 

 

Erik looked like he wanted to come over but didn't dare to get in the way. That hadn't been his first reaction. He had nearly run Hank over. Charles wondered why he didn't come over now. 

 

Charles made his way around the steel kitchen counter and stepped close to Erik, so he could feel the other's body warm against his. 

 

“I'm sorry. I guess that was my fault.” Erik's fingers brushed his hand, as if he was too hesitant to touch. 

“You know this happens a lot, since you have taken a closer look at my arms. Hazard of the kitchen. Will you wait outside for me? Your desert is almost finished and no new orders came in, so I guess we'll be able to leave soon.”

 

“Of course.” Erik's concerned frown faded somewhat, though Charles still detected traces of it around his eyes. 

 

Charles leant just a little closer, making sure Erik could feel him pressed against him. He took the prepared note from his trouser pocket and used it to lightly touch Erik's lips. Then he pushed it into the breast-pocket of Erik's suit, a wicked smile forming on his lips. “Something to pass the time till then.”

 

He enjoyed the way Erik gave a small breathless gasp. His eyes shone in anticipation and he reached up to put his hand above the breaststroke. He leant down and Charles thought he would kiss him, but then he moved his head to whisper against his ear. “I'm looking forward to have you all to myself tonight.”

 

x

 

_I will take my time, teasing you, until you squirm and just want me to tear your trousers off you. Again I'll take my time, undo the button, swat your fingers away when you want to speed things along. But you can touch my hair. I like it when you bury your fingers in it. I'll pull down the zip, then hook my fingers in your trousers and pants and drag them down, just to your knees. You'll have to hold on to me, or you will fall. My hands grab your hips again to steady you and stop you from squirming. I run my tongue over your balls, then suck at the tender skin before I lick over your hard cock. I'll let my tongue run over the tip, so you are wet with my spit. Then I blow my breath over the tip, making you shiver and squirm, before I take you into my warm wet mouth._

_Don't come yet, Erik, for hat's what I want for desert from you tonight._

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday. Charles has to leave for the weekend and Erik is left with bad memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea how the airport in New York looks like (pics on google only confused me ^^;) so...I tried to keep it vague.

The airport hall was big and noisy. Hundreds of people coming and going. Some running in unconcealed panic to catch their flight, others sitting on their luggage, waiting. 

Charles and Erik had managed to be on time – barely though. Charles own fault really. He shouldn't have started kissing his boyfriend in the hallway when he wanted to leave for the airport, or push his hand down said boyfriend's trousers. It had taken some breaking of speed limits, bending of rules (orange light meant speeding up so one could just make it before the light turned red, right) to assure Charles wouldn't miss his flight. Charles had teased Erik about the reckless driving style, but was glad that Erik ignored him, except when they had to stop at a red light. Then he was giving back as good as he got. 

Erik had parked in the overpriced parking garage, not wanting to hear a word about just dropping Charles off and driving back. They had run all the way, Erik carrying Charles' bag. Panting they stopped once they made it into the airport building, seeing Charles still had enough time to check in. Erik slipped his hand into Charles. It made Charles smile. “I can take the bag now.” 

Erik shrugged. “It's not heavy.”

So they headed for the check in. Charles felt strangely reluctant, but he didn't really know what to say, so he kept quiet. There was only one person ahead of them and then Charles had his boarding pass and the guy at the counter politely asked him to head for his gate immediately, since boarding would commence shortly. It wasn't really necessary to tell him to hurry up. His manager had texted him already. 

Charles felt Erik's hand tighten around his, as they neared security. He stopped, shoving the shoulder bag aside, and faced Erik. “Thank you for taking me.”

Erik looked a little uncertain for a moment then shrugged. “It was purely selfish.” Erik licked his lips.

Charles tried to think of something witty or sexy to say. But for once his eloquent flirting technique seemed to fail him. 'I'll miss you!' seemed to be a classic but he would be only gone for the weekend and it sounded way to trite. 

Finally Erik pulled him closer, pretty much ignoring all the people around them. Charles pressed his body against Erik's and they kissed, parting only as Charles' phone started ringing angrily. 

xxx

Erik stared after the retreating figure as Charles passed security. Through the big window-walls he watched as a women in a sharp looking white business-suit intercepted him. They greeted each other, though she seemed annoyed, waving her hand holding a phone in front of Charles face. Erik guessed it must be Charles manager. Charles looked rather unfazed. He grinned and pointed in the direction of Erik. They both looked his way and Erik felt foolish, still standing there. But Charles smile widened as he spotted him and all Erik could do was smile in return. 

Erik still stood there watching once they headed for their gate. Charles had waved at him, before he turned away. Instinctively Erik had raised his hand, but then let it sink, irritated. Yet he still stood there, looking on until he had lost sight of Charles' back. Reluctantly he turned away and headed back to his car. He no longer was in a hurry. He clenched his hand, that, minutes ago, had still held on to Charles'. Was that how it had been for Magda – and then her and Anya. He gave an exasperate sigh, raking his hand through his hair. He had no right to compare having his boyfriend leave for a weekend trip to what he put Magda and Anya through. No right to be so lucky... Erik pushed the glass door open and stepped out into the cool spring-evening.

xxx

It felt strange coming home to his silent apartment Compared to Charles' place it suddenly seemed small. Especially after he had discovered, that there was another floor with spacious rooms that Charles used as study when he had to write and once had been used by his sister as bedroom, before she became successful enough with her art to support herself.

Erik wandered aimlessly into his bedroom. He flopped down on his bed and looked up through the skylights. The dim light of evening mixed with the street lamps and lights of surrounding buildings filtered in. It never grew really dark in New York. Unlike the place where he had been living with Magda and Anya. A village, close to Bonn, so he could easily commute. A little house with a garden. It had looked so perfect and he had messed it up from the start. Right from the point when Anya was born and he hadn't been there. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Shaw.” Erik had been nervous, but also confident, that his boss would understand.

“Yes Erik?” Shaw had always spoken softly, calmly, whatever the topic, lulling you in.

“About that trip to Florence you wanted me to make. For the contract with Mr. Veccio. The thing is, my wife is expecting our first baby and the doctors says it's due to when I would be in Florence.”

“Oh.” Shaw had steepled his fingers in front of him, looking thoughtful. “I see. So you would rather have me give this important assignment to someone else?”

That's when slowly doubt started to creep over Erik.

“A pity, Erik. I really had hoped... Well, there is nothing to it, you have to decide, where your priorities lie. So, to take your place I will need someone I can rely on and not be distracted in the future. Do you have any recommendations?”  
And that's when he made the decision – the wrong decision. He still remembered Shaw's reassuring words as he clasped his shoulder afterwards. “Anyway, don't worry Erik, doctors prognosis on when a baby is duo are mostly wrong I hear. And if not - it's not as if you could help your wife really...”

Erik rubbed his hands over his face. He needed some distraction. He needed... Erik pressed his fist against his lips. The time spent with Charles had been – almost too good. 

Erik rolled onto his belly and reached for the books, sitting in the built in shelve beside his bed. He was looking for some distraction. His fingers brushed over the spines. The 'Roman thriller' he so liked held little appeal at the moment, the non-fiction about the French Revolution – too dry. For a moment he considered Hauff's 'Das Wirtshaus im Spessart' his mother had given him to read, since they both enjoyed the movie so much, even though the book was very different. But he ended up pulling Charles' cooking-book closer. For a long moment he just stared at the cover in the dim light. 

He should head out. Do something, to distract himself, from the odd emptiness he was feeling.

Tomorrow. He would go to the gym, run... maybe head out on Sunday, go hiking somewhere. 

Perhaps he could scout some place, where he could go with Charles. Even in the privacy of his own thoughts, he felt embarrassed at how quickly his thoughts circled back to Charles. Erik rolled onto his back, hugging the book against his chest.

 

He woke up in the middle of the night, struggling to move his arm that was pinned down. It took a moment to clear his sleep-addled brain and then realise he had fallen asleep on his bed with his clothes on and the book in his arms. It must have slid off his chest as he moved and pinned down his arm. He sat up, pushing the book aside and tried to massage some life back into his arm. That's when the memory of the dream came rushing back to him. Erik went completely still, not wanting to remember, while his brain dragged up the images regardless. He had taken Charles to the airport, just like he had really done, but as Charles walked past the security check, he wasn't meeting up with his manager, but it was Magda. And she talked to Charles about Erik. Erik had felt panic well up, before he realised she was talking German and Charles wouldn't understand a word she said. (That he could hear them despite the thick glass didn't seem odd in his dream.) But he did. Magda told him – everything – everything she had told Erik in the end. “He is cold. He wont be there for you. All he cares about is his career. He got a stone for a heart and he can't cry, he can't laugh and he can't love, but all wishing wont bring the dead back to life.” *  
They looked at him then. Magda with tears and anger in her eyes and Charles looking earnest. They were talking again, but this time Erik could only hear single words from their conversation, that made no sense. They both started to walk away and Erik tried to follow, but they wouldn't let them through security and he ran up to the glass wall. He could still see them. Erik beat against the glass with his fists, hoping Charles would come back so he could tell him – though he had no idea now of what he had wanted to tell him in his dream so urgently.

Unsteadily Erik got to his feet, feeling groggy and tired. He had changed, hadn't he. It was too late for Magda and Anya, but Charles...   
He tried to picture him waving at the airport, how his lips felt when they kissed, his smile but the images from his dream still tried to interfere. Erik dragged himself into the bathroom to take a shower, brush his teeth and then went to bed properly. If he did dream again, he gladly couldn't remember it by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Magda's words are partly inspired by Willhelm Hauff's fairytale 'Das kalte Herz' (The cold Heart) part of 'Das Wirthshaus im Spessart' (The Spessart Inn)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik misses Charles, though he isn't able to say it.

Erik checked his mobile – again. Still – no message. He let it drop on the couch beside him. He took a sip of the Apple-strudel liquor he didn't really like, but the taste oddly reminded him of Charles. _'Too sweet...'_ Erik licked his lips. The taste seemed to evaporate way to quickly, though the warmth he felt running down his throat, pooling in his belly, still lingered. He emptied the glass and sat it down on the coffee-table. 

 

A look at his watch showed it was just past ten. Clearly Charles wouldn't call any more. Charles had told him, that it would be a busy weekend. And having his manager along, he hadn't been sure, if she wouldn't throw any last minute plans on him. So Charles hadn't know when he would be back on Monday. Erik had waited patiently, but caved and then sent a text around noon. _'Just so Charles knows I haven't forgotten about him during the weekend.'_ Or was it the other way round he really was concerned about. He stood up and headed for the bathroom. His gaze brushing over the photograph of him with Magda and Anya. He picked it up. _HE_ had been like that. Forgetting what was important. With lips pressed firmly together he put the photograph back. He needed a shower and sleep. Maybe tomorrow he would have more luck in reaching Charles.

 

Erik was just getting into the shower when he heard his phone ringing. _'Charles?!'_ Quickly he hurried back into the living-room, not bothering with a towel. He half fell onto the couch in an attempt to reach his phone in time. Charles' picture was showing and Erik answered the call without hesitation. “Charles!”

 

Charles warm chuckle greeted him. “Oh, what have you been up to? You sound quite breathless.”

 

“Nothing. I just wanted to get into the shower.”

 

Charles was silent for a moment. “Would it be too forward, to ask for a picture of you in what you are wearing right now.”

 

“But I'm not... oh...” Erik grinned. He might consider it.

 

“Sorry for that, I'm still totally worn out. Sorry too I didn't reply to your message. Just got home in the afternoon and was so tired I went straight to bed. Thought I'd call you when I was more feeling like myself again, but I didn't think I would be out for so long.”

 

“Glad you still called. I would have tried calling you tomorrow, but it's nice to hear from you today.” _'Fuck, I'm babbling.'_ But Charles seemed to be too much beside himself to notice or comment. Erik tried to calm down. “But how was the weekend? I thought you were only there to judge and others had to do the real work.” He teased.

 

“Oh you...” Charles sighed. “I'll remember that remark and come back at you when my brain is working properly again. But the weekend was – long. Long days, long nights. Not all business, but it's like the saying goes 'Too many cooks spoil the broth.'”

 

“So what you had to taste was bad?”

 

“No – rather there was a little fight amongst us judges. No broken noses but a lot of heated arguments that lasted well into the night. Then there was the press conference, celebrations on Sunday and this morning my manager settled me with two meetings for possible future projects. One for some cooking show where they invite some celebrities and I have to judge their cooking or help them cooking. It was all very vague and I really don't want to do another show for TV right now, at least nothing so – mundane.” Charles sighed. “I'm sorry, I'm probably boring you.”

 

“No, I'm listening. Though I'm probably not much of an expert on what would work for TV. But I guess, if it doesn't work for you, you shouldn't do it. You have a great talent, it would be a waste to let it be used for something you don't believe in.”

 

“Mhm... God I wish you were here right now. Much nicer to hold you than that stupid phone.”

 

“If I'd know you were home, I would have come over.” Erik hoped it didn't sound too demanding or complaining.

 

“Hm... or if you had a key, you could let yourself in. Just what would you do, if you found me asleep in my bed?”

 

Erik grinned. “Oh, I don't know. Let you sleep?”

 

Charles growled. “Erik Lehnsherr, don't toy with a man's fantasies like that!”

 

“All right...” Erik laughed. “Hm, I would get out of my clothes then get into bed with you. But careful, so not to wake you.”

 

“I AM awake!” Charles interrupted.

 

“No, not yet. I would caress your arms with my fingertips, then use my lips. I would carefully slide closer, so not to wake you, I'd kiss your shoulder, trying not to get distracted by your beautiful freckles there. Then your neck. But I would not be able to resist and I'd lick your skin, nuzzle it, gently bite your earlobe...”

 

Charles gave a soft mewling sound. “What's the point in going to sleep, when I can't wake up to that?!”

 

“When is the next evening you are free?”

 

“Oh – tomorrow - I think. My organizer is in the kitchen.”

 

“You don't have to tell me now. Just text me later.”

 

“Okay. Tell me more. What you would do to me.”

 

“Push the bedsheets down, so I can look at you, a bit at a time. As I said, I don't want to wake you. I would get the sheets down far enough so they bunch around your hips, then nuzzle the warm skin of your belly.” Erik closed his eyes. “Then slowly, I'd pull the sheets further down, an inch at a time, always checking to make sure you are still asleep.”

 

“Naughty.”

 

“You need your sleep but I need to look. Just a peek of your cock will be enough... or just a kiss, a gentle caress, using just my lips.”

 

“You are such a tease.”

 

Erik grinned. “Look who's talking. I remember getting raunchy notes, while sitting in a restaurant full of people.”

 

“I regret nothing. And didn't I follow up on all my promises.”

 

Erik shivered at the memory. “Oh you did. And next time I catch you asleep, I will do so too.”

 

“Can't be soon enough.” Erik could hear Charles sigh. “I missed you.” Charles voice sounded soft and intimate.

 

Erik felt his throat grow tight. He swallowed tried to sound light and teasing as he answered. “Is this the moment when I tell you, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner the time for a next date will come.”

 

“No. Erik...” 

 

Erik squeezed his eyes shut. Charles voice sounded compelling and Erik suddenly felt terribly vulnerable and aware that he was naked. Why were words always so hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the dream about Charles and Magda at the airport.

 

“I guess you are tired too...” Was Charles sounding disappointed?

 

“Charles... Please call me as soon as you know about your schedule. I want to see you as soon as possible, even if you can only manage something short. I don't mind..” He frowned. Would Charles understand?

 

“All right, though... Hm, will do.”

 

_'though what?'_ Erik tried to grasp for the right thing to say. “I really - I … do you still want a picture of me?” 

 

“What? Oh! Oh yes, that would be delightful. Something that will give me sweet dreams.” He could hear the wicked smile forming on Charles lips, and it distracted Erik from what he couldn't put in words.

 

“Ok.”

 

“I'll be waiting for it, before I go back to sleep! So no squirming out of that promise.”

 

“I wont. So see you soon.”

 

“I'll make sure of that. Have a good night, Erik. Don't forget to give me one too.” 

 

Erik took a deep breath after Charles had hung up. He started to feel cold, but would not make Charles wait. He felt a bit like some porn actor, as he was laying back on the couch, holding the phone as far away as possible to get a good shot. He didn't really know what expression to make. A dopey smile was out of the question and he was sure any attempt at a sexy scowl would just look incredible stupid.

 

After several attempts he had a picture he was halfway satisfied with. He sent it to Charles, then wanted to delete the others, when he noticed one he had dismissed at first. The angle was off and the frame showed only his lips and chin, but the rest of his naked body was on it completely, down to his splayed legs. Erik bit his lips, cheeks feeling hot, as he imagined Charles wanking to that image. Before he could have second thoughts, he loaded it into a text-message and sent it too.

 

xxx

 

The package came with the normal morning post run. There were the copies of the deed registration he had requested, another envelope with the large-scale printout of the approved layout of the mall-project and the little package, wrapped in brown nondescript paper.

 

Erik put it aside at first, checking the plans. As he got up to get himself some coffee, his gaze fell on the small package. He picked it up, shaking it slightly. Whatever was inside seemed to be packed tightly. He turned it around in his hands, but except for his name and the address of the office, it held no other information. He put it back on his desk, headed out to get his coffee and when he came back sat down to open it. For a moment he still pondered if he had ordered something he had forgotten about. 

 

Wrapped in more paper he found two keys and a note inside. The handwriting was unmistakeable. 

 

_No need to call. Come over whenever you like._


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'You don't use the doorbell, when you got a key. Apparently he wants you to just come barging into his life.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when I will manage the next update, since next week I'll be at work for 6 days. I hope I can get something done on Friday, my day off, though.

Erik's fingers had wrapped tightly around the cold metal keys, as he rode up the elevator to the floor of Charles' apartment. His heart was beating strongly and he felt nervous.

 

Charles had given him the keys to his apartment.

_No need to call._

_Come over whenever you like._

 

It seemed to Erik, as if he had spent the second half of his day at work staring at the keys. He hadn't dared put them away, like he had to make sure he could see them, otherwise he would not believe Charles really had done that. But they had rested snugly in the box Charles sent them in, real yet inconspicuous.

 

The elevator ride was over way to quickly, and Erik still hadn't figured out what to say to Charles when he unlocked the door to Charles' apartment. _'Thank you! ????..... You wanted me – here I am!'_

Erik stepped out of the elevator and stopped, glad to find the corridor was empty. No one to wonder what he was doing here, standing like a fool that didn't know which door he was supposed to head for.

 

How the hell was he … what did Charles expect. For an irate moment he felt almost angry at Charles, then at himself. He didn't want to mess this up.

 

Sports bag with overnight-things in one hand, key in the other, he approached Charles' door. Again he hesitated. Should he use the doorbell? He looked down at the key in his hand. _'You don't use the doorbell, when you got a key. Apparently he wants you to just come barging into his life.'_

 

Erik unlocked the door and pushed it open. A dark hallway greeted him. He just stood there, listening intently, but the apartment resounded with emptiness. Erik let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

 

He put the bag in the bedroom before he aimlessly started to wander around the empty apartment. It felt strange, being here alone, the familiarity of the place mixing with details he hadn't realised before, distracted by Charles. He lingered in the kitchen a bit, getting himself a glass of water and taking a closer look at the painted over photographs Charles had hanging in his kitchen. 

So he was a bit surprised that he recognised two of the buildings in the photographs as Charles' restaurants. He guessed Charles must know the artist. Or was it a present from a fan. Erik frowned. Each photograph held a stylised signature. R VEN. After staring at the letters Erik realised the line going through the lower half of the R was probably meant to turn the R into two letters. Erik gave a little huff. Of course, Raven, Charles' sister. He felt stupid for not realising the obvious.

 

Erik wandered into the living room, contemplating to text Charles. But it would not make him come back home sooner. Charles probably was busy with whatever he was doing, and wouldn't be able to reply – not before he was on his way back home. He might even prefer to be surprised by Erik's presence.

 

Erik noticed the DVD they had last watched, still lying next to the TV. The simple fact made him smile and feel a strange warmth inside. His fingers hovered over the remote to turn on the TV, but then he turned away. He finally turned to the bookshelves, deciding he would just wait up and read. With a thriller that sounded promising he returned to the couch, flopping down and making himself comfortable. Now with Charles' lap as a pillow this would be perfect, but he found he quickly got engrossed in the story of a former criminal returning to London and teaming up with a police officer, who initially wanted to take him down, to uncover a deeper conspiracy.

 

xxx

 

Charles was tired. It was as if he still hadn't been able to shake off the hustle and bustle of the weekend. _'Does that mean I'm becoming old?'_ He cringed at the thought. _'No, no-no, just in need of a holiday. Or, lacking the time for that, a shower and a good nights sleep.'_

 

He unlocked the door to his apartment, turning on the light in the hallway and letting his bag slip to the ground. He stared at it for a moment. Did he remember his schedule for tomorrow? With a sigh he bent down to retrieve his timer. There was a brunch-date with Emma and his editor pencilled in. He could make out the tiny scribbled 'New book ideas?' beside it. Having finished the last one seemed just a short time ago, so if they didn't manage to come up with any glorious ideas – he felt blank. _'I could ask Erik.'_ Charles smiled.

 

_'I have to manage to get at least one fixed evening every week to spend with Erik.'_ But staring at the plans for next week, he instead realised on Thursday was Raven's closing night of her latest exhibition, he probably should show up at, since he skipped the opening. _'If Erik wants to go... Oh look, I've got Sunday off.'_ That prospect at least made him smile and he dropped the timer back into his bag.

 

That was when he noticed Erik's shoes.

 

A wide smile spread on his face. Sending the keys had seemed such a brilliant idea, though once the parcel service had picked the package up, he wasn't so sure if Erik would use them. If it wasn't a bit – much.

 

“Erik!?” 

 

There was no answer, no sound. He moved toward the kitchen, but he could see it was dark in there, same the living room. Erik wouldn't wait for him in the dark. 

His eyes turned toward the closed bedroom door and on an impulse he turned off the light in the hallway. Indeed now he could see a slip of light shining through from underneath the bedroom door.

 

Charles licked his lips. “Oh, you...” He slipped out of his shoes, then his jacket and threw it in the direction of the chair, standing in the corner. By the sound of it, his aim was right, even in the dark. He contemplated undressing further right here, or if he rather would have Erik do the honours. Finally he decided to just undo the first buttons of his shirt and pulled up the sleeves. He hoped Erik would be already naked. The photo Erik had sent him, came to Charles mind. _'Oh yes, just like that.'_

 

Charles slowly opened the door.

 

Erik was naked, in his bed and asleep. Charles had to stifle a laugh at his own expectations. He walked up to the bed. Erik lay on his back, a book on his chest, his fingers loosely curled around the spine, using his thumb to mark where he had stopped reading. Charles stood there, just staring for a moment. Erik looked relaxed and just like he belonged there. _'God, I think I'm falling in love.'_

 

Carefully he plucked the book out of Erik's unresisting hand, marking the page for him, before he put it aside on the bedside table. Then he headed for the bathroom, dimming the lights in the bedroom, so he barely could see by them.

 

When he came back, wearing only a fresh pair of boxers, he stopped at the side of the bed, taking in the sight once more. It was exactly as he hoped. Well not exactly. But then his fantasies had involved Erik using the key to let himself into Charles apartment, just as Charles himself was moaning Erik's name while masturbating on his bed, unawares of Erik 'sneaking in'. Something very unlikely to happen without some serious planning and timing.

 

Charles sat down on the bed. Reluctantly he sat the timer of his clock on seven, the time Erik needed to get up to be at work on time and which would allow them a little time to fool around, before they had to get up. 

 

He didn't want to turn off the light yet though. He slid under the blanket and moved over to Erik's side. He pulled a pillow under his head so he could comfortably look at Erik's face. But looking wasn't enough. Gently he touched Erik's mouth. His warm breath spilled against his fingertips. Charles lifted his hand only to place it against Erik's chest. He splayed his fingers in a light caress, moving them over to Erik's shoulder, allowing himself to grip just that bit tighter.

 

A jolt went through Erik and suddenly his eyes were open. He turned his head to look at Charles. “Charles.” Erik rolled around, snuggling up to Charles, throwing an arm over him. Charles moved his hand to the back of Erik's neck. “Sorry to wake you.”

 

“I want you so much.” 

 

The unexpected confession stole Charles' breath away and was topped as Erik bent down to kiss him. Next thing Charles knew Erik had his head resting on his shoulder and then... Charles still felt a little dizzy from the surprise. “Erik?” 

 

Erik didn't move, his breathing was even. 

 

Charles was perplexed. He poked Erik's shoulder with a finger, but he got no reaction. “Did you just fall asleep on me?” Still there was no response.

 

Charles waited. Nothing happened, nothing changed. Finally Charles decided he could just as well turn the light of, if he woke Erik again, well... But nothing happened as he strained to reach the switch and then settled down.

 

Charles' fingers ghosted over the back of Erik's neck, reluctantly closing his eyes. With a smile playing around his lips he slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

xxx

 

Erik couldn't remember falling asleep ( he had just put the book down shortly, to rest his eyes) or Charles returning home. But Charles was there when he woke up. He felt his body pressed against his back, one hand thrown over his hips. For a brief moment he felt disappointed about last nights missed opportunity. About how he had wanted the night to end.

He shifted, becoming aware of Charles arm thrown over his waist, the slack fingers ever so lightly touching his skin. Erik bit his lips. He took Charles hand in his and guided it down, rubbing his growing erection against Charles' hand. He gasped as suddenly the fingers twitched and Charles hand wrapped around his cock. Charles' lips felt hot against Erik's neck, before he administered a loving bite. “Good Morning, Erik.” The purring voice made Erik moan.

 

x

 

They had skipped breakfast in favour of staying in bed a little longer. But in the end, Erik had to get up and get to work.

 

“Don't forget the keys.”

 

Erik stopped and let Charles push the keys he had put on the dresser last night, into his trouser pockets. Charles hooked his fingers into the fabric. He smiled up at him. “Are you free this Sunday?”

 

Erik frowned. _'Sunday, fuck, that is in five days.'_ But what of it, he would take what he could get. “Yes.”

 

“Good. What about Friday evening – or late afternoon?”

 

“This Friday?” At Charles nod he continued. “Evening, sure, I would have to see about when I can get off work.”

 

“And Thursday?”

 

Finally Erik smiled. “I'm all yours.”

 

“I like the sound of that. And whenever you want, just drop by. Even if I am not here then, I like to find you in my bed when I come home.” With that Charles pulled Erik closer, kissing him one last time.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't usually go to art-exhibitions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. As predicted, work gobbled me whole and spat me out a tired mess.

There were a lot of people and Erik knew none of them. Expect for Charles of course. But he had abandoned him, right after they got something to drink. _“I'll try to find my sister in this bustle. Why don't you just wait here, I'll be right back.”_ Now Erik was standing in front of one of the huge art pieces, trying to not look like he was waiting. The art was a mixture between photograph and painting. This one had been torn messily in half and while the lower half showed concrete, asphalt and steel the top half was all colour and light and actually looked like some forest or garden with very psychedelic flowers. 'Transformation' was the title of the photograph/painting. 

 

“That is one of my favourites.” 

 

Erik looked to his right, where a petite dark haired girl in a black dress had stepped up beside him. She threw him a sideways glance and as Erik didn't answer a cheeky little smile appeared on her full lips. “I noticed you looking at it for quite some time.”

 

“Yes, it is... interesting.” Erik was hardly an expert on art and he was a little at a loss at how to describe it. He was just glad Charles' sister wasn't someone who just painted big blobs of colour and had the audience do all the work and interpret _whatever_ into it. 

 

“Interesting? You don't usually go to art-exhibitions.”

 

Erik gave her a lopsided smile. “You got me there.” He half expected her to turn away and loose interest, but her smile became more genuine. 

 

“Oh, at least you are honest and don't pretend. I'm Angel by the way.” 

 

“Erik. So it is safe to guess, unlike me, you have a better grasp on art?”

 

“I do hope so. I do body-painting.” 

 

“A bit hard to do exhibitions of that – or sell the paintings.” Ok, that was probably something stupid to say, but Erik really felt out of his depths here.

 

But Angel laughed. “There are body-painting festivals instead of exhibitions.” She eyed him and Erik suddenly started to feel like – well, a piece of canvas. “If you ever are curious, I could show you how the painting works. And usually I take pictures of the finished artwork – actually most of the time Raven helps me with that, or models for me. I'm always on the lookout for new models, you know.”

 

Erik latched onto the most innocent sounding piece of conversation – and a possibility to sneak in the information that he was not interested. “So you do know the artist. Actually I'm...”

 

“Erik, sorry, I finally found Raven...” Charles had a blonde young woman in tow. As he noticed, that Erik was not alone, his expression suddenly froze and he stopped dead. “Oh. Hello Angel.” His voice sounded unusually clipped. Angel straightened visibly, her flirty smile disappearing from her face, she looked like she had bitten into something unpleasant. “Charles.”

 

Erik suddenly found Charles snaking an arm around his waist.

 

“I see. Well, it was nice talking to you Erik.” With that she turned around and stalked off. Erik was a little confused.

 

“Charles!” Raven exclaimed. 

 

“I didn't do anything. I was entirely civil.”

 

“Sorry, but what was that all of a sudden?” Not that Erik felt like complaining that Charles had his arm wrapped around him. Even though in a room full of people, but he hoped, if they were progressive enough to appreciate modern art, they could deal with this too.

 

“I'm sorry Erik. Angel and I – we dated. It didn't end too well.”

 

“Oh.” He couldn't help throwing a glance after the girl, oddly glad all of a sudden that she had left.

 

Charles squeezed his side. “So, Erik, I wanted you to meet my sister, Raven.”

 

Erik snapped his attention back. 

 

“You should introduce me as the artist of this exhibition first.” Raven protested.

 

“But to me, you are my sister first.” There was a fond teasing smile showing on Charles face. Finally Erik managed to tear his gaze away from him and focus on Raven. First thing he really noticed, her eyes weren't as blue as Charles', but she was looking at him with overt curiosity. “So, welcome to my exhibition's closing night. My brother here hasn't told me enough about you yet, but I'm sure I'll find out all the important things.”

 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?” Erik didn't know if he was supposed to be amused or offended.

 

“Depends what there is to be found out about you.”

 

“Don't worry Erik, she is just miffed that I did not implore her help in finding a date - again. Though we both know how well that always worked out.” Charles threw a pointed look in the direction Angel had disappeared to.

 

“That's not true. I am merely curious about the man who falls for my brothers cheesy flirting technique.”

 

“I would not call it – that.” Erik offered weakly.

 

“Oh, what would you call it then?” She looks impish, something that reminds him of Charles, even if everything else doesn't.

 

Erik felt his cheeks grow hot. He cleared his throat, and grew aware how Charles was looking at him expectantly. If it were only Charles he was talking to, he would go all out. Tell him that every word felt like a lick or kiss on Erik's skin. But he was talking to Charles' sister here! “Very...effective.” He finished lamely.

 

“Oh nonono!” Raven was quick to protest. “You wont get off the hook so easily. What do you like about my brother?”

 

Erik gaped. She definitely was as straightforward as her brother could be. Erik took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that Charles was standing right there beside him, warm body pressed against his side, listening. “I thought you were asking about Charles' flirting technique?”

 

“Yes, but since you couldn't come to its defence, I fathom it must be something about Charles you have fallen for.”

 

Charles laughed. “Raven. Please be gentle. Don't spook my boyfriend.”

 

“No Charles, it's alright. Though I might want something in return for my answer.”

 

Raven crossed her arms in front of her. “You already have my brother!”

 

Erik smirked, slowly feeling like he was getting back on firmer ground again. “But it's you who wants an answer, and not Charles. So, Charles tells me, you are the go-to person for embarrassing stories of his childhood.”

 

Raven had frowned, now laughed. “Is that all you want? I would have given those away for free.” Though then she stalled. “To the right person.” 

 

Erik wanted to ask who she was to judge if he was 'the right person', but was distracted by Charles groaned. “That's not fair.”

 

“Telling my mother she was the secret matchmaker wasn't fair either, Charles.” Erik was so intent on Charles, that he missed Raven's eyes widening.

 

“But you wouldn't want me to lie to your mother.” Charles looked totally sincere. But there was a wicked glint in his eyes. And it reminded Erik of the first time they met. “That! That's what I like about your flirting. The way you do it completely unabashed. Say the most lascivious things without batting an eye.”

 

Charles cupped his cheek with his hand, brushing a thumb over Erik's lips. His smile made Erik's heart flutter. 

 

“Ok... don't mind me...”

 

Erik leant closer, brushing his lips against Charles'. The kiss was chaste but lingering.

 

“Great... I will just leave you to it. … we can continue this conversation later... have fun.” 

 

They only realised Raven had left as someone asked them to move aside, since they were blocking the view.

 

xxx

 

Charles had thought this brunch-date with his sister would be to celebrate her successful exhibition. But after they had settled down with fruit salad, smoked salmon, cheese and some samples of different cake, she had waved his remark about how most of her artwork had sold at the end of it away. At first Charles had been worried, since that was not usual Raven-behaviour. Usually she would be all enthusiastic, recounting the sale and the praise even if Charles had been there himself and heard and seen everything. But he could understand it and it made him smile to see his sister so happy. This time though, the first thing she wanted to know was not how he liked the exhibition, but: “How's Erik?”

 

“Fine.” Charles answered a little startled.

 

“Fine. Fine? Is that all you can say about him? Having heard you talk about him was one thing, but seeing you two together.”

 

“What do you want me to say? Erik is...” Charles didn't know where to start. He hoped he was fine. He seemed ok with the irregular time they could spend together, he hadn't been spooked by Charles giving him the keys to his apartment, but used them, regularly. Every minute Charles could spend with him seemed precious.

 

Raven crossed her arms in front of herself, leaning back in her chair. “Even Angel had only nice things to say about him – despite him being with you.”

 

Charles frowned. He wanted to say, that he cared very little for her opinion, but that would only lead to an argument between Raven and himself. 

 

“Oh, don't look like that. Even if Angel would have liked to steal your man from you – which she is way to nice to even contemplate – he clearly only had eyes for you.”

 

“Well, sorry we neglected your art.” But instead of getting their conversation back on the topic he had come prepared to discuss, Raven just waved it away.

 

“I couldn't help – overhearing - that you have met his mother already...”

 

Charles took a sip of tea, avoiding having to answer right away, wondering where this was going. But he didn't have to wonder for long, since Raven quickly lost her patience.

 

“So how serious is this between you two? Is he moving in with you?”

 

Charles first instinct was to protest, but then his brain teased him with the image of Erik unlocking the door to Charles' apartment with the keys he had given him. Erik leaving his overnight bag, since he would be back in the evening. Erik's toothbrush and other necessities, having found a home in Charles bathroom. The odd purple mug with red stripes, that had been at the back of Charles' kitchen cabinet, but that Erik had claimed as his for his morning-coffee. 

 

“Well? I don't know why, but clearly this is different from when you dated people before.”

 

Charles licked his lips. “Meeting his mother was not planned...” He felt reluctant to go into details. “Anyway I met her before Erik and I got together, when she got my books signed. And it's really to early to know where this between Erik and me is going.” Though at the moment he didn't want to imagine going back to a life without him. “But we are only seeing each other for a few hours a day, the longest was a whole weekend. Though he seems ok with that.”

 

Raven had started picking strawberries out of the fruit salad, looking thoughtful. “You know, perhaps you two should go on some kind of holiday, for a week or two. Somewhere where you can totally be with each other 24/7, and see how that works for you.”

 

Charles sighed. The thought of him and Erik on, say a secluded island in the Caribbean, was – nice. “Not that I'm not tempted by that idea, but I'm not sure Emma would want me out of her sight for that long. And I have no idea if Erik and me could match up our time-off.”

 

Charles didn't miss the frustrated look Raven gave him. “You know...” She shook hear head and shoved the fruit-salad, now stripped of its last strawberry, over to him. “I guess it's up to you, how much you really want it.”

 

Charles poked a piece of melon with his fork. _'Raven is wrong. It's how much I really want_ _ **him**_ _... and how much he wants to be with me.'_

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number of chapters this will have is only a rough estimate and will probably still change.

Erik shut down his computer, grabbed his phone and his leather jacket and closed the door to his office. It was just past 3pm, way to early to be leaving work. But Charles had the afternoon off, so he had the best of reasons to quit early. Before he reached the elevator though, he had to get past Munoz office, who was still waiting for a revised – boring, unimaginative, dull – plan. But if he were to finish it today, he would get out late. The evening a wasted opportunity.

Erik tried to play it nonchalant – or rude, just walking down the corridor without looking left or right, not saying goodbye. Well he planned to ask Sean at reception, to tell anyone who asked, that he'd had to leave urgently. 

He just had made it safely past Munoz office, when the man himself came walking towards him. 'Fuck it!'

Munoz looked him over and frowned. “Not heading home already, are you, Lehnsherr?”

“Sorry, something came up. Have a nice evening.” Erik tried to brush past him.

“Wait, wait! What about the plan, you didn't finish that already?”

Erik sighed. “No, I didn't. Look, I promise, I will do it first thing in the morning. Even if I did it now, you wouldn't get it in time before you call it an evening.”

“But I could start working on it right in the morning.”

“I promise, I'll go over the plans with you after I finished them, so you will get your work done in half the time. Just - I really need to go now.”

Suddenly concern showed in Munoz dark eyes. “Is everything all right with your mum?”

That question startled Erik. “What? Of course she is all right. Why...?”

“That is so unlike you, I just thought... I mean what else could have you running off like that. Wait, it isn't that date of yours from three weeks back.” Munoz was smiling way to pleased.

Erik tensed, his first instinct was to deny Charles. To say it was something really important. 'Fuck. Charles is important and I wont let that opportunity to see him slip. And why is Munoz grinning like – he left early for a date himself too.' “Yes, it's Charles...”Reluctantly he added. “Our work schedules are a bit conflicting, but we try to make it work. 

“...and those times you came in rather late, that was cause of him too?” Before Erik could respond, Munoz raised his hands defensively “Not asking for details, ok. It's just... I haven't seen you like that before. You have changed. “ Suddenly he clapped Erik on the shoulder. “All right, off you go. But don't forget you promise to work through the plan with me tomorrow.”

“Sure. I will. Thanks.”

On his way out, Erik was still puzzling over Munoz's word to him. Of course he had changed. But not because of Charles. Wasn't it because of the people he hadn't been there for before, his daughter and his wife. Charles was just the first – the first who he had allowed closer and the first who seemed worth trying to make it work. Learn from his mistakes. No, not mistakes. His guilt. He could not erase what he had done, only, not do it again. Erik let his head drop against the cold metal of the elevator, that was taking way too long on its way down. If only he had realised this before, even if he got things right with Charles, it still seemed to late. 

He felt a familiar tightness around his throat and pressed his eyes close for a moment. When the elevator door opened he rushed out. He needed to get home – to Charles' home that is.

xxx

Using the keys no longer felt odd. He had been coming and going to Charles apartment in the last week quite often. He actually had spent more time there, than in his own apartment. He still was in wonder that Charles did never mind. He was always smiling when he found him occupying his place – even when he was bone-tired and obviously wanted nothing more than sleep.

A smile crept across his face, as he thought about the two times Charles had actually fallen asleep, using Erik as a pillow, while he had still been reading or watching TV. As much as Erik had enjoyed that, he was looking forward to having a very awake Charles this late afternoon.

The first thing he noticed though, after he unlocked the apartment-door, was the slight smell of perfume. Then he spotted a white coat hanging in the hall. 

He took off his shoes and hung up his jacket. There were voices coming from the living-room. Charles appeared in the doorway just as he made his way towards the living-room. He was wearing a light blue shirt, sleeves rolled up. “So I was not mistaken when I heard the door.” Charles pulled him closer, kissing him. Erik rather forgot that obviously there was someone else here as well, as he responded eagerly, letting his hands roam up Charles' arms. Charles caught one of his hands in his and leant back slightly. “Glad you could get off work earlier. My manager sprang a meeting on me, but I'll just kick her out.” There was a wicked twinkle in Charles eyes.

“I did hear that, Charles!” Came the smooth voiced reply from the room behind Charles.

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like your manager does object.”

“I might be lenient though, if you no longer kept your boyfriend hidden from me and introduce us.”

Charles rolled his eyes, but turned and drew Erik along into the room. He had only been able to get a short look from the distance at the woman before. His first impression had been that she stood out, pale and spotless, and he was surprised to find that confirmed. She was wearing a similar white business – suit, her hair was pale blonde, framing her pale face in perfect waves. There was something inapproachable about her, and sitting there on Charles' cream-coloured couch, all that seemed to be missing from the picture was a white Persian cat on her lap. Erik tried not to let his thoughts show. 

“All right, Erik, meet Emma Frost, my manager, who has made it her goal to make sure not even my spare time is my own. Emma, this is Erik Lehnsherr, the one you are keeping me from, when you spring sudden TV-appearances at me.”

Emma had gotten up and she and Erik shook hands. She was smiling politely, her handshake was brief but firm. “Nice to meet you.” Though her gaze made it clear, that Erik was still on probation and the words were merely a courtesy .

Erik put his business face on, though it was hard, when Charles still held on to his left hand. “Likewise.”

“Don't bother. I am sure you do not appreciate the work I do, which is keeping him occupied. I have worked with Charles for a very long time in his career, and believe me, even if it may seem a cruel curtailment of his spare time, all I have in mind is to keep him on top in business. I hope you can cope with that.”

Erik felt like bristling. Her smile rubbed him wrong, cause he knew she didn't mean it. It reminded him of Shaw. He wanted to tell her, it was none of her business, but – she was Charles manager. And apparently they have been working together – successfully – for some time. “As you can see, we cope.” 

“Yes, Charles has been telling me, that you are very understanding.”

Erik frowned, looking at Charles, then at her. “I don't see how Charles' private life...”

“Oh, but you see. Charles life isn't private. Not like yours, or mine. The stakes are higher, the demands, but also the rewards in his line of work. If he wants to stay on top, he needs to be ever-present and constantly work on new projects. He can't, for example, just take a month off whenever he wants. I hope you do understand that.”

“Emma, please don't try to scare my boyfriend off.” Charles was half joking, but Erik could feel his grip tightening a little.

“Sugar, if I scare him off, he wont last anyway.”

“I have no idea what you are trying to do, or trying to tell me Mrs. Frost. But if this is some kind of test or if you are trying to mess with my mind, you can stop right there. I'm not falling for it.”

“Erik – may I call you Erik –“

Erik bristled at that, but he wouldn't let it show.

“Charles is not only a client for me, but we have worked together for a long time and I would take it rather personal, to find he got so invested in someone, who didn't know how to deal with his lifestyle and it all ending in tears and heartbreak.”

“I have dated before!”

Emma smiled at Charles protest, her voice sounded almost gentle. “Yes, you have. Funny thing that I never met any of your dates before, don't you think. I just want Erik to be clear that your lifestyle doesn't allow for a fixed schedule. That there will always be business getting in the way and that you can't make exceptions, if you want to stay successful. - For no one.” 

Erik swallowed. For a moment there, she sounded like she really cared about Charles. “So you think I will break it off with Charles sooner or later because – because I can't handle him having to be away on weekends and evenings – or cancelling dates on short notice.” Despite her seeming to care for Charles, he couldn't help the coldness creeping into his voice. “You really haven’t got the faintest idea about me.”

“You are right, Erik, I don't know you, but I know Charles. So you will have to deal with my concern.” 

“Emma, there is no need to be so overly – dramatic. I can take care of myself.”

“I know. I did not mean to upset you, or your boyfriend. I only want to make sure he knows what your life entails before it is to late.” She got up from the couch, ever so graceful. “I'll be going. See you Friday for lunch.”

Erik felt Charles squeeze his hand. He had been so focused on Emma, that only then did he look at him, noticing how Charles had his lips pressed together and a frown creasing his forehead. The look in his eyes seemed harder too, but he only managed to catch a glimpse, before Charles let go and brought Emma to the door. 

As he heard the apartment door being shut again, Erik sat heavily down on the couch, burying his face in his hands.


	25. Chapter 25

Erik had his arms resting on his knees, looking onto the ground. He hadn't looked up, as Charles came back in, but he had heard Charles' steps stopping some feet away, before he moved closer. Erik felt his heartbeat pick up as Charles reached the couch, felt it as he sat down but kept his distance. He waited, but Charles didn't move closer. 

Erik wanted to bury himself against Charles, inhale his scent, loose himself in the warmth – and not think. How could a practical stranger rile him so? She didn't know him – and if she did, she would think he wasn't good for Charles. She would know he would mess things up and hurt him.

 

“You know, she is right. I love my work. I can't change that...” His voice sounded flat.

 

The words echoed coldly similar words from his past.

_You only love your work! You don't care for anything or anyone else._

 

And Magda had been right. Erik had been driven, not looking right or left. And that's why he could see the difference. How Charles was burning with a passion when it came to his work, and it was so much part of him. Yet Charles would pull Erik closer, make room for him... make sure he had a place in Charles' life. “No Charles, I know how important this is for you, and that's why I appreciate the time you manage to find for – us the more. I know this may sound odd, but because of that, those moments seem even more precious to me.” Erik kept his focus on the ground. He couldn't look at Charles, didn't dare make eye contact, the words spoken out loud made him feel too raw and vulnerable.

 

He didn't see Charles looking at him in wonder, or how he reached out. But he felt it as Charles moved behind him, wrapping him in his arms and pulling him against his chest. Pressed against his back, Erik could feel Charles' heartbeat.

 

He closed his eyes again, but reached out to put a hand atop one of Charles'. They stayed like this for a moment, without speaking.

 

“Before I met you, having some time off work was never that important. But I want to spend as much time as possible with you. You're perfect.” 

 

Erik pressed his lips together. “Hardly.”

 

Charles' lips brushed against Erik's neck. “For me.”

 

“Please, don't.” He couldn't let Charles believe such a lie, even if it felt so good.

 

“Erik... “ But then there were no more words coming from Charles, he simply pulled Erik closer, one hand snaking up to his shoulder, pushing past the collar of his shirt, resting on naked skin. It felt comforting. “So this is all right for you. This is enough?”

 

“Yes.” And no. “I'd never ask you to give up what you love.”  


“I know. If you did, we wouldn't be here... and I would not be falling in love with you.” 

 

Erik felt dizzy, the words ringing unreal in his ears, like his brain had made them up, not Charles' mouth. Charles had to feel how fast his heart was beating Erik's mouth felt suddenly dry and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to utter a word. _'What if I mess this up again I don't deserve this Second chance You can't love I've changed Heart made of stone You'll never change Too late Alone.'_

 

“Do you need to think things over? Be alone?”

 

“No!” The voice came out as a croak, but his grip on Charles arm was firm. How could Charles sound so certain?

 

“It's alright, Erik.” 

 

Erik felt the light scratching of Charles' beard as he rubbed his face against Erik's neck, then brushed his lips over it. Finally his strong fingers dug into the tense muscles at his neck and shoulders. Erik shivered, slowly letting his hand slip from Charles arm, letting him work with both hands. Finally Erik felt tension draining from him. Charles' hot breath spilled against the back of his neck where the skin seemed over sensitive after Charles' ministrations. “It truly is alright. Even if you can't say it. I just hope you feel something like it. That you want to stay with me. That I'm becoming important to you.”

 

“You are. Please don't think... I want you - I need you...” Erik squeezed his eyes shut. Was it enough? He couldn't say more. The little huff of warm air against his neck might be from Charles smiling. Or might stem from disappointment. He tried to voice what Charles would want to hear and couldn't. All he could see was Magda’s accusing expectant gaze on him. Expecting to be disappointed again, expecting to be proven right.

 

Charles kissed his neck. “Need you, too.” He sounded like he was smiling. Then Erik felt the pull, as Charles leant back, tugging him along. Wanting nothing more than to stop thinking, Erik relaxed enough to sink back onto the couch. Yet he felt reluctant to face Charles. But Charles was insistent. His hands were moving over Erik's body, tugging gently, sliding along one leg, pulling at it for Erik to move it between Charles legs, then making him turn the rest of his body. Erik finally gave in, accepting the welcoming embrace. Charles mouth was on his, the kiss slow but deep, finally distracting him from his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said there would be sex in this chapter. Sorry not yet - but soon. ^^;


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I said in the notes last time...not yet. Still one more chapter to get there.  
> And yay, managed two chapters in two days! :)

 

“So, did he run?” Emma barely waited for Charles to sit down.

 

“How are you? Fine thank you. How was your week, Emma? Any business related news?” Charles huffed sarcastically.

 

“You once told me I should – how did you put it, show more compassion and not only be interested in business. That it scares people off. And now you are complaining, because I skip the business chit-chat.”

 

Charles sighed. “Yes, I said that. But was it really necessary – you trying to scare him off? And for the record, no he didn't run.”

 

She smiled smugly. “I think it was. I gave him something to think. If he hasn't run now, I guess we can safely presume he wont. So, onto the next step.”

 

Charles shook his head. “Really. You are my manager, but that does not mean you have to try and manage my personal life too. “

 

“But since I would have to deal with all the heartbreak, which, I am sure will start to bleed over into your work, I think it is my responsibility.”

 

“Please don't do it again.”

 

The waiter came with their starters. Eating at one of his own restaurants had its perks, like ordering ahead.

 

Emma waited for the waiter to leave again before she answered. “All right.” The look she wore said something else though. She picked up her fork and speared a piece of green asparagus, eyeing it with critical interest.

 

“Emma, I know you are thinking quite the opposite.”

 

She smiled at him. Her innocent look might have fooled someone who didn't know her. “And since when can you read my mind, sugar. “

 

“I can't – and believe me, I'm glad of it. I guess I would shudder in fear, if I knew ahead of time what you are planning sometimes. But Erik is really important to me.” He saw her raise an eyebrow and quickly cut in. “And, I know he feels the same.” Even if Erik might not be able to voice it the same way, but Charles was sure. He – felt it. But that was something he would not go into detail about with his manager.

 

Emma looked thoughtful, while she ate the asparagus. Though it was hard to tell, if she was contemplating the taste of the dish, or Charles' words. He waited, then, to keep from fidgeting, started eating himself. The taste of the seared scallops with asparagus cream barely registered on his tongue, as he tried to not look at Emma.

 

“So you really think this will develop into something serious - a long term relationship?”Of course she wouldn't let the topic go.

 

Charles just wanted to shout _'Hell YES!'_ but instead he took another bite, then a sip from the white wine, before he answered. “I know, it's been only a short time, but I feel rather sure. Of course, spending some more time together would help to be certain. Like a holiday together.” Maybe he could get this conversation to turn in his advantage.

 

Charles wasn't sure, if the spark of interest Emma showed at the mention of a holiday, was a good or a bad sign. “I know you are not stalked by reporters, but since you and Erik are in a relationship now, at one point, someone will notice. And then there will be a story about you. Nothing big, nothing damaging I am sure but, not in our control. “

 

Charles frowned. “You don't think it would cause much of a problem, me being bi and in a relationship with a man. You never said anything about being careful before.”

 

She waved that away. “No. I just think, the best way would be, if we controlled you going public with your boyfriend, painting it in the most positive and – adorable colours. Just think about it, if we show him, say, helping you in the kitchen. ”

 

“Well, he already did. That's how we met.”

 

Emma gave him the most brilliant smile. “So, you mean we should have him in your show once more. Again as your assistant. You would apologise for not picking anyone from the audience today, because there is someone here who you have chosen to be so much more than just your assistant. Oh Charles, what an excellent idea!”

 

Charles gave a painful moan. He hadn't meant it like that AT ALL. _'Be certain for Emma to twist your words. I know Emma, she wont let it go. But Erik wont like this. '_ Just how was he going to get them out of this again?

 

xxx

 

 

Erik put the bag down in front of Charles' apartment. He hoped he was doing the right thing, but the past days his thoughts had been running in circles, coming back to Charles and the words he had said. _'falling in love with you.'_ It was an odd mixture of panic and exhilaration that Erik felt. He couldn't reply with words, it was like something was clamping down on his throat, if he tried to open his mouth or just thought about it. But he needed Charles to know, that he wanted this.

 

Still his hand shook slightly as he put the key in the lock. The sound of the lock opening sounded loud and harsh to his ears.

 

Inside, just as he put the bag down for a second time, Charles appeared from the direction of the kitchen. Erik just stared. Charles wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his hair was curling at the tips and it made him look deliciously dishevelled. His blue eyes lit up as he saw Erik, red lips curving into an open smile. “It's you!”

 

Erik grinned, not caring if it made him look like some smitten teenager. “You make it sound like you were expecting someone else. Just how many people have you given keys to your apartment to?”

 

“Apart from my sister and manager, let me think... there is this one guy. Tall, lean, devilish handsome, with good taste in movies, knows how to help me in the kitchen too.” Charles made to pull him into his arms, but then almost fell over the large bag at Erik's feet. He looked down, then up at Erik, a curious look on his face. Erik again felt nervous.

 

“Sorry, just had to get things from my apartment...”

 

“That why you called and said it would take longer to get here?”

 

“Yes, that...didn't want to drag it to work.”

 

Charles didn't say anything, just looked at him with an expression that might be disbelieve or something else. “Look, this doesn't mean I'm moving in!” Erik said it rather forcefully which made Charles frown. “But I'm spending most nights here and I just thought it would be more convenient to have a little more of my stuff here, so I don't have to drag a bag along every day.”

 

Charles looked down at the bag again, his face hidden by his hair.

 

Erik shifted. Had this been the wrong move? But he had thought Charles... he was such a fool. “If it's inconvenient for you, I'll just take it along again.”

 

Charles moved quickly. He picked up the bag by its shoulder strap. “I just hope there is at least one suit in there, so I can take you out any time I want.” He carried it into his bedroom. “We'll just make some space in my wardrobe afterwards – but dinner first.”

 

Erik's heart was still hammering like madly as he made to follow. “You don't have to … I can leave the stuff just in there.”

 

“I wont have your suit get all wrinkled from being squashed in the bag.” To Erik Charles warm smile looked perfect at that moment. _'But I didn't pack a suit!'_ He didn't confess though, since it seemed such an unimportant detail at the moment. But he decided he would bring one next time he made it to his apartment.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Perfect.' He would have loved to tell Erik his thoughts, but it seemed he had to tread careful with him. But if that's what Erik needed... Charles sighed. He tried to think of something else. Like how he could break Emma's deal to Erik.

 

 

The night air held a hint of warmth already, and the terrace was tugged away, so it was safe from any cool breeze. Despite that it could get a bit nippy, if you just sat outside so Charles threw blankets over the two loungers he had dragged around, so they stood side by side. He made himself comfortable on one and looked up. There weren't any stars to see with the light of the city polluting the sky, but the moon was out. Nevertheless it made Charles smile, like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. In fact it was perfect, a perfect night, because Erik had shown up with that big – and heavy - bag.

 

 _'He is not moving in, he is NOT moving in, he said so himself. So no need to get all excited about it. But maybe he just said it cause he thought you would object. He was terribly touchy about it. Ok, asking him to move in, is really way to early.'_ But this was definitely where they were heading to. Charles stretched languorously, a small sigh escaping his mouth. 'First there is something else to discuss. God I hope he will take to the idea, because that also means we can...'

 

Charles got distracted as Erik stepped out onto the terrace. He had thrown on his leather jacket. He took in the the two loungers, a little frown showing on his forehead. “Mind if I join you.”

 

Charles smiled amused. “What does it look like?” His gaze darted over to the second lounger. But Erik bent down, putting his hands on Charles thighs, pushing them apart. “Oh...” Charles let his legs slide open, making room for Erik – and whatever Erik planned to do. He grabbed the front of his jacket, just pulling him closer for a moment to kiss him. “Isn't it a bit crisp for outdoor sex? Though I'm sure you can get me hot all the same.”

 

Erik looked amused. “They should rename your show to 'The wanton Chef'. I had something a lot more innocent in mind.” He drew back only to settle down between Charles legs, with his back to him though.

 

Charles laughed. Obviously he had been a little hasty, but he didn't mind postponing the sex to later. He wrapped his arms around Erik, holding him close. This was just as good. He rested his chin on top of Erik's head. “Warm enough? There is a second blanket.”

 

“I'm good.”

 

“Mhm, you feel good.” Erik's hands were resting on his thighs, while his body was a warm weight against Charles' chest. He could smell his shampoo, with a hint of lemon and cedarwood. He thought of Erik's yellow and white bottle of shampoo, that had found a permanent spot in the shower last week. Erik shifted a little, tilting his head so he could rest it more comfortably against Charles shoulder, exposing the line of his neck. He trailed his fingertips along Erik's exposed skin. ' _Perfect.'_ He would have loved to tell Erik his thoughts, but it seemed he had to tread careful with him. But if that's what Erik needed... Charles sighed. He tried to think of something else. Like how he could break Emma's deal to Erik.

 

“ _If you two agree to this, I will make sure you get your three weeks of uninterrupted holidays. No surprise interviews or appearances. Three uninterrupted weeks with your boyfriend at a location of your choice. I will even organize the whole trip for you.”_

 

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine three weeks like this. Having Erik just to himself, morning till evening and night. Just doing whatever they felt like. “Can you swim?”

 

“Hm? Yes. But it is a bit cold for swimming now.” Erik's voice was tinged with amusement.

 

“Depends. Here in New York for sure. Ever been swimming in the ocean?” Charles pictured a white beach, and Erik in swim trunks, water dripping from his body as he waded out of the water. He'd love to lick all the droplets off his body.

 

“Swimming and diving. Not in the Atlantic though.”

 

“Diving? Never tried that.”

 

“It's great, some of the fish let you get so close if you move slowly and even sea turtles. They are just amazing creatures, on land they may look totally clumsy, but once they are in their element, they are majestic.” The wonder in Erik's voice made Charles smile.

 

“Sounds fascinating, the closest I've ever come to sea turtles was in an aquarium.”

 

“It's not the same, I mean have seen fish in tanks, but then when you are right in the middle...and there was this wreck of a sunken submarine, it looked so surreal. That men-made thing, abandoned and made part of a completely different world.”

 

Charles wondered if Erik had been diving with his wife, of if it had been during a holiday with her and his daughter. But Erik felt so relaxed in his arms, he didn't want to drag up bad memories for him. “Would you show me?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“How to dive. Would you go diving with me, that is, I was thinking of taking a holiday. Somewhere warm, remote with long beaches, blue sea... if you would come. What I want to say is, I'd like to go on a holiday with you.”

 

Erik turned his head so he could get a gimps of Charles' face. Charles obliged, shifting so he could look at Erik. “When?”

 

“Whenever you can get some time off. Emma promised me, she would get me a three week holiday whenever I want.”

 

Apparently having met her once was enough for Erik to get suspicious at once. “What? Just like that? She will release of your obligations for three weeks, so you can lie on a beach and sip cocktails?”

 

“Well, I said I really would like to go on a holiday with you.”

  
Erik still looked sceptical.

 

“She usually isn't very lenient about my free time, but I managed to strike a deal.”

 

“What does she want?” Erik sounded less enthusiastic as Charles had hoped.

 

“Erik, you sound like you think she would have asked me to sell my soul.” Charles laughed, despite his concern about how Erik would take to Emma's 'plan'.

 

“Ok, not your soul – but she did ask for something?!”

 

“She is just thinking ahead. And so far her decisions have been great in connection to my work and my career. She really has an instinct for what will work.”

 

“You are stalling and it makes me think I wont like what you will say.”

 

Charles licked his lips. “She thinks, at one point it will get to journalists attention that I have a boyfriend. And it might come in a situation that the press will choose to misinterpret or dramatize. So she has an idea how to prevent that.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“Her idea was that you will come on one of my next 'Chef X' episodes and cook with me again as my assistant and me introducing you as my boyfriend.”

 

Erik sat up. “What? No!” He twisted round to look down at Charles. “I'm sorry but – no. I can't do that.”

 

Charles hadn't thought Erik would agree, but he had hoped he would be more reluctant with his refusal. He took hold of the hem of Erik’s jacket, studying his face. “Would it be that bad showing up at my side as my boyfriend?”

 

Erik frowned. “That's not fair. It's not that but...” Erik gritted his teeth. “I don't feel like being displayed.”

 

“You didn't protest that much when I picked you as my assistant the first time round.”

 

Erik's cheeks took on a rosy colour. “That's not the same. That was by chance and not something planned.”

 

“You haven't said if you even wanted to go on a holiday with me.”

 

Erik's eyes lit up. He looked angry and desperate and his voice cracked slightly. “Of course I want to. I want to sleep in every morning and not get up until noon. I want to do beach walks and lay in the hot sand with you. I want to go diving with you...” Charles saw the muscle in his jaw jump. Erik looked like he was fighting with himself. “Does it have to be this? Can't your manager come up with some other way, if she thinks this has to be announced some way? A little note in the paper: Chef Charles Xavier has a boyfriend now, deal with it.”

 

Charles was hard pressed not to smile at that.

 

“And why should anyone be interested anyway! It's not like we are getting married.”

 

“As Emma said, my life is a lot less private. There is a lot more to consider of how I appear in public.”

 

Erik turned his head away.

 

“Erik...” But all he could think of saying, he was sure would only push Erik away. _'If he hasn't run now, I guess we can safely presume he wont.– Damn you Emma. He might now.'_ The silence stretched on. A small shiver ran through Charles', without Erik pressed against him, the air felt rather cool.

 

“Can I think about that – maybe talk with your manager?”

 

Charles only realized how tense he had grown as he relaxed at Erik's words. “Of course.” _'He wants to face Emma after that first encounter? God if he doesn't love me too, I don't know...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to all who read and enjoy this! Just wanted to let you know, every time I see the hitcounter go up, it makes me smile, not to mention all the kudos, bookmarks and comments you give. Glad to see this story grows on you as it has on me.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look Erik, you seem to be mistaken about something. I am not here to make Charles' life easier for him. I am here to make sure he is successful and stays successful. Making him happy – I'd assume, as his boyfriend, that would be your part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting patiently? for the next chapter. It got a bit out of hand.  
> Thanks go to [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) for accidently pushing me to write (and think) more about the Erik vs Emma scene. Also hope you like the part about the leather jacket. ;)
> 
> I think this chapter needs some extra warnings (that will show up in the tags as well, but just in case): Roleplay of the kinky variety, spanking, kitchen sex, authority kink
> 
> Edit: 24.3.2013  
> The lovely [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) took the time and effort to do a grammar-check for this chapter. Thank you!   
> So this should read more smoothly now. :)

 

Emma sat in her high-backed cream-coloured leather chair, behind the sleek black desk in her office. Charles would have had preferred, if she had come over to his place. It would have made for a more relaxed atmosphere. Emma's place of business paired high ceilinged walls, painted with illusionary renaissance architecture with functional black and white furnishings. He remembered the first time he had been here. He had felt terribly distracted and had had a hard time to concentrate to keep up with her.

 

Erik seemed to fare slightly better, staring at Emma since they arrived and not letting his gaze wander, though a frown was creasing his forehead.

 

“It is a pity, but I do understand that you cannot handle the media presence that is expected of Charles.”

 

“Emma, we didn't come here so you could try and get Erik to break up with me.” Really, was that what she had planned all along. She had been taunting Erik about his deficiencies of being able to cope with Charles lifestyle since they arrived. Well since she met him, really. And Charles really had believed after the first meeting she was ok with this. But she kept prodding and probing. Charles gritted his teeth.

 

“Mrs. Frost,” Erik still refused to call her anything else, “I thought, as Charles' manager, it would be your job to work with the given circumstances. I do understand that Charles is a public person, but I am not. So why is it so hard to ensure a little privacy for us – Charles.”

 

Emma sighed. “Because that is not how it works. If we try to keep you completely out of Charles' public appearance, people will get curious. And at one point you will be seen together. Since you are a mystery, people will get curious, they will start digging for information about you and if they don't find anything, they will make something up.”

 

Erik had his lips pressed together, looking grim.

 

“If we want to stay on top of the media, we control what they will write. That also means, we have to take the initiative. If we can make you the – excuse me – most boringly normal person Charles chose as his lover, everyone will soon lose interest and leave you be.”

 

“But Emma, if Erik just doesn't want to appear on the show again, can't you find some other way.” Charles tried to be the voice of reason here. He didn't want to force Erik into doing anything he didn't like. ' _P_ _erhaps I am still a little bit afraid he will tuck tail and run.'_ Though he didn't want to believe that could happen. Not after he had, well, not moved in, but...

 

Emma had steepled her fingers in front of her, gaze shifting between Charles and Erik. “Please Charles, would you leave us for a moment. I would like to talk to Erik alone.”

 

Charles bristled. He would not be sent out like a child. “So you can convince him to rethink our relationship?” All right, maybe he did sound like a pouting child. Hidden from Emma's gaze by the desk, Erik's hand suddenly moved to rest on Charles' thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze. Charles tried not to look down.

 

“She can't. I know what is important to me now.”

 

Charles stared at Erik, who was still looking at Emma, like he was challenging her. Charles' heart was beating quickly in his chest. He was very aware that Emma was watching both their reactions. Perhaps she wasn't only testing Erik's resolutions here. 

 

“ Charles please, I just think this will go quicker, if I can discuss the options with Erik alone.”

 

“All right.” His hand touched Erik's for a moment, before he stood up. “Just keep in mind, that I have to agree with what you want us to do, too.” Not that it was likely that Erik would pick something Charles' wouldn't do, but for Erik it would probably be good knowing, that even he might not be game for everything Emma threw at them.

 

Having closed the door to Emma's office behind himself, Charles was left to wait alone. Not a sound made it through the heavy wooden door. There were chairs, a big window overlooking a terrace and a huge aquarium with colourful fish swimming about. A lot to distract oneself while waiting. Charles started pacing in front of the closed door.

 

+++

 

Erik stared at his reflection in the mirror. The clothes were his. A blue shirt and jeans. But Mrs. Frost had picked them out. Good God had he been glad he didn't have to let her into his own apartment, since he'd had enough clothes at Charles place for her to pick from. Nevertheless it had made him very uncomfortable.

 

And they had messed with his hair. He usually kept it combed back, now he looked like he had just fallen out of bed. He frowned and flinched as the girl in charge of make-up used a thick brush to spread powder on his face.

 

“You're done.”

 

Erik huffed gruffly. 

 

Photoshoot - a bloody photoshoot. Perhaps he should have gone with the TV-show. At least he knew what to expect there. _'Why did I agreed to this again?'_ But he only had to glance over to the chair beside his, where Charles was suffering through the same treatment - with a lot more grace.

 

“ _Look Erik, you seem to be mistaken about something. I am not here to make Charles' life easier for him. I am here to make sure he is successful and stays successful. Making him happy – I'd assume, as his boyfriend, that would be your part.”_

 

Mrs. Frost had really riled him up. He still was chewing on her words. He really wanted that holiday with Charles, purely selfishly – and because Charles seemed to want it so much. If Charles' icy manager from hell would only agree to let Charles off the hook, if Erik agreed to some public 'appearance', so be it. It was only photos of him and Charles cooking together. No audience. And he would have a say, which pictures they would take. God damn it – but he was no model. He would feel awkward. _'Think of Charles and the beach and the sea … licking droplets of salt water from Charles skin, my lips against his sunheated skin.'_ He probably would have to make sure Charles stayed in the shade, his skin looked like it would burn easily. A lot of sun-lotion would be needed. And of course Erik would be ever helpful in applying it and making sure no spot of Charles' body would be forgotten. Would more freckles appear on Charles milky white skin? 

 

“See something you like?”

 

Erik realised he had been caught staring. He grinned at Charles. “You – everything. Can't we skip this and just head home?”

 

Charles' smile widened. “I'd love to.” He slipped from the chair to get closer. “I like your hair like that.” He buried a hand in Erik's hair. “Looks like I already got my hands on you.”

 

“Sweet.” Mrs. Frost's voice made them both freeze. “I really hate to interrupt, but we are ready for you.”

 

Charles gave a little shrug and then mouthed the word 'later', before he turned to head out. Erik took one last look at the mirror. The hair didn't look that bad after all.

 

++

 

There were lights and flash reflectors set up in front of and around the huge kitchen area. Erik still wondered about the whole 'renting this place for just the photoshoot idea'. He would have thought it would take place in one of Charles' restaurants kitchens. But apparently those would look too 'clinical' for the 'mood' they would be aiming for in the photos and Charles' didn't want everyone in his apartment for the whole day, plus time to set everything up and take everything down again – and that's how long it would probably take. The whole day. They would have to pretend to be cooking several different dishes and Charles had spent the last day preparing a lot of stuff.

 

The photographer was a guy with a Russian accent, who had worked with Charles since his first book came out, and who had introduced himself as Azazel.

 

As for the 'no audience' thing, that wasn't entirely true. There was Charles' manager, and two of the guys he 'met' at Charles' restaurant who introduced themselves properly this time as Alex Summers and Hank McCoy. They were here to help set up the food and clear things away again.

 

 _'Why am I doing this again...'_ His gaze fixed on Charles, who was adding some finishing touches to the setup of bowls filled with different fruits and chocolate and some rolled out dough that looked ready to be worked with. _'Just concentrate on him!'_

 

“Ok, all is ready.” Charles smiled at him. Erik guessed that was his cue and wanted to go behind the counter where Charles was standing.

 

“Wait, I thought we should do some photos of you putting this on your boyfriend.” Mrs. Frost held out an apron.

 

“Sure.” Charles was quick to get it from his managers' hands and just threw a quick look at Azazel to see if he was ok with their position. Erik had just frozen, moving his arms stiffly out of the way as Charles stepped behind him to tie the apron, acutely aware of the click-click of the camera.

 

“You are supposed to look like you are having fun.”Came the dry remark from Mrs. Frost that prompted stifled laughter from the direction of Charles' two apprentice cooks. He looked at them, getting the tall guy to shut up quickly, looking guilty. Alex on the other hand just smirked.

 

“This is not looking good. You cannot expect me to take great pictures like that.” Azazel cut in finally.

 

Erik felt Charles' hands on his hips and how his body was close, leaning against his back. “Erik?” The hands guided him to turn and face Charles. “I'm sorry this is so awkward for you.” Charles licked his lips. “Do you want to stop?”

 

Erik swallowed. He wanted to say yes, but after all the preparations that had gone into this. “I don't want to think of what your manager will do then. She might make sure you have no spare time for me at all.”

 

“Sugar, I am right here, you know.”

 

But Charles shushed her with the wave of a hand. “Ok. Then – you have done this before, helping me in the kitchen. It's nothing else we are doing. You did fine in front of the camera the first time round.”

 

Erik huffed.“You were too distracting. It was hard concentrating on what you wanted me to do.”

 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “So I am no longer distracting to you?” He bit his lip, then a cheeky smile showed on his face. “Then let me try this again.” Charles hands slid from his hips to his back, undoing the ties of the apron again. He held the apron up between them. Erik looked questioning and slightly amused. “This is an apron, always to be worn when you work in the kitchen. It helps to protect your clothes. Though I would love to have you naked while cooking, this one item of clothing should be worn nevertheless, to protect ...” With that Charles stepped closer again, wrapping him up in the apron, “everything important.” He pulled the ties back to the front and tugged, so Erik instinctively braced his hands on Charles' shoulders. He totally missed the many clicks the camera made.

 

+++

 

Erik frowned at the five differently shaped wine glasses he found in Charles' kitchen cabinet, then just took two at random. He was sure after the long day that had turned into late evening with pretending to cook one recipe after another, Charles wouldn't mind about such details now. He stuffed the bottle opener into his jacket pocket and grabbed the wine bottle from the counter, then headed towards the terrace.

But he didn't find Charles where he had left him. He had moved from the terrace to the living-room and lay sprawled bonelessly on the couch. “Sorry. It quickly turned cold out there without you.”

 

“So, do you want to head to bed already?” Erik couldn't hide the eager tone of voice. That was another thing. Today had been, in a way, torture. Having Charles close the whole day, flirting with him, touching him without them being able to really do something more than kiss – though Erik had made damn well sure, it was when the camera was not pointed at them.

 

“No. I thought we were going to celebrate.”

 

“That's what I was thinking too.”

 

Charles chuckled. “Then why don't you put the wine on the table and – come a little closer.”

 

Erik did the first, but then stood back. “I'll just go and hang up my jacket.” He wanted to turn away but Charles caught his hand and pulled him back towards him. Erik felt his gaze caught by those incredible blue eyes. Charles made sure he had all of Erik's attention, before his lips curved up in a knowing smile and he let his gaze rake down Erik's body. “Why don't you take the rest of your clothes off along with your jacket.” He reached up with his free hand and let the flat palm run down over Erik's chest, his stomach, finally cupping the bulge in Erik's trousers.

Erik gasped and he closed his eyes for a moment. The rest of the tension from the day drained away, leaving him hot and wanting. He almost whimpered as Charles drew back his hand and thought he would just take off his clothes right here, but Charles seemed to have other plans. He smiled wickedly, leaning back onto the couch. 

 

Erik's legs felt weak, like they would give out at any moment. He stared down at Charles, trying to get why he had stopped touching him. What was he waiting... right, clothes. Erik was about to pull off his jacket, then hesitated. He started undoing his belt, pushing down trousers and pants in one go.

 

Charles' gaze was taking him in and a smirk showed at the corner of his mouth at Erik's choice. “On second thought, taking off that jacket is not a requirement.” Charles grabbed the front of the jacket and quickly Erik found himself on his back on the couch . “Been waiting to do this all day.” Charles mouth was on his, kissing him greedily. 

 

“So it was all a rouse, you being so damn... professional during the whole photoshoot?” Charles had been going from flirting with him, by words and touch one moment and rearranging the kitchen counter with the food the next. Completely unfazed. It had only added to Erik's frustration.

 

Charles gaze bore into him. “I knew I would get you in the end. Patience _IS_ a virtue, as they say.” Erik felt one of Charles' hands wrapping around a wrist, pushing his arm down, the other still held on to his jacket. He kissed Erik's chin, just underneath his lips. Erik wanted to chase after them but Charles mouth had already gone only to be pressed against his throat. Erik arched his head back, moaning softly as Charles suckled at the tender skin. Erik's breathing hitched as Charles mouth pressed against his Adam's apple. 

 

Erik buried his free hand in Charles' hair, unsure which direction he wanted to guide Charles' head or if he just wanted to hold on. 

 

Charles seemed to be caught in a similar dilemma. His fingers moved to pull down the neckline of Erik's shirt, his tongue tracing Erik's collarbone. He tugged until the fabric dug uncomfortably at Erik's neck, but before he could decide if he should complain and risk Charles stopping, Charles grunted in frustration and his fingers pulled the shirt the other way. “Next time I'll vote for a shirt with buttons.”

 

“Next time?! Charles, what next time?!”

 

“Next time we want another vacation.”

 

“We haven't even taken this one yet, isn't it a bit early to make – more plans?” Erik looked down at Charles head, bent over his now naked chest, not sure he was feeling dizzy only because Charles seemed intent on sampling every inch of his skin.

  
Charles raised his head, smiling at him. “Just making notes of important details.”

 

“Speaking of details – you are still dressed.” 

 

Charles chuckled . “Do you mind?” 

 

Erik considered that, then reluctantly admitted. “Ask me again next time you wear your Chef uniform.”

 

“Kinky. But you know, I only wear that in the kitchen.”

 

“Yes. I gathered you have the keys to get into any of your restaurants kitchens anytime you like – even when the restaurant is already closed.”

 

Charles slowly sat up. He was looking down at Erik's dishevelled appearance. Thoughtfully he licked his lips. “You know, there is one of my restaurants that is currently closed for partial redesigning. If you think you can wait until we get there.” Charles suddenly smirked and his strong fingers wrapped around Erik's erection, making him moan. “And you manage to tuck that back into your trousers.”

 

Erik smiled up at Charles, chest heaving with heavy breaths. “I can – if you think you can refrain from touching me long enough.”

 

+++

 

Charles rummaged in the lockers that stood in a corridor, leading to the kitchen. He fished out a pair of white cotton slacks and shirt, not unlike the Chef's uniform Charles himself was wearing and threw them at Erik. Erik caught them and shook them out, trying to see if they would be his size.

 

“Put those on – only those.” Charles winked at him, before he disappeared through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

 

Erik took a deep breath. Perhaps he should have told Charles in the car on their ride over to Charles' closed restaurant, that this was the first time he tried this role-playing. It always seemed slightly silly, to play someone else... but then, Charles wasn't so much playing, and it was exactly the way he had been attracted to him in the first place. He couldn't say he had never jerked off in the shower to the thought of Charles taking him over the kitchen counter after he had seen him on TV in his cooking show.

 

Erik shifted, his jeans definitely getting too tight. He quickly stripped and put the white clothes on, the softer fabric of the slightly loose cut of the trousers doing nothing to hide his arousal.

 

As he pushed the revolving door open, following Charles, he found the empty kitchen brightly lit. The white tiled walls and polished steel counters adding to the brightness. Charles, who had been sitting on one of the kitchen counters, pushed himself off and jumped down. All Erik could do was focus on Charles' arms, wishing for Charles to just come over and pin him down on one of the counters, or up against the wall. 

 

Instead Charles just stood there measuring him up with his gaze. “You're late! No one is late in my kitchen!”

 

“Sorry...”

 

“Sorry – _Chef_!” 

 

Charles' raised voice echoed in the bare room, the tone he used going straight to Erik's head – and his cock.

 

“Sorry Chef! Won't happen again, Chef!” It should have been weird for him to call Charles that, instead it was thrilling and a little shiver ran down Erik's spine.

 

“Good. Now get on with it, there are enough dishes that need to be washed.” 

 

Erik looked around, half expecting for dirty plates and glasses to really be there. But of course, everything was spotless and not even clean plates were anywhere to be seen. Still Erik walked over to the huge sink, that you could load a set of huge pots to soak. A bit indecisive he looked at the taps. How was he...

 

“You can use the water, you know.”

 

Charles' voice came from close behind him, making Erik jump and he hurried to turn on the tap. A huge gust of water poured out. Trying to play along Erik thrust his hand under the water. The jet of water hit his hand hard, splashing Erik's front. Erik gasped as the cold water hit him and he stumbled back, crashing into Charles', who took a firm grip on his hips. He tskd. “Now look at you. What a mess you made of my kitchen.”

 

Erik looked down at the pool of water on the tiled floor. “I'm sorry, Chef, I'll clean it up right away.” He turned off the tap then looked around, searching for a dish-towel or mop.

 

Charles licked his lips, as his gaze travelled down Erik's body, where the drenched clothes clung to him, the white fabric making his skin shine through, outlining Erik's erection, that even the cold water hadn't been able to douse entirely. “This is the fifth time this week, Erik. First I thought you were just clumsy, then that you actually wanted to sabotage my kitchen, but now – now I think what you really crave , is my attention.” Charles stepped tantalisingly close. “Or how do you explain this?” His hand cupped Erik's cock, feeling hot compared to the cold, wet clingy fabric. Erik couldn't help it. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the sensation, rubbing against that hand. “Yes...” his voice cracked. He swallowed and tried again. “Yes, I hoped to get your attention. But you are always so busy with – with preparing the food and keeping everything running smoothly so I.. I...haaah” Charles ran his fingers up and down Erik's cock.

 

Charles spoke softly, yet Erik felt captured by Charles' words. “But have I taught you nothing? Rule number one: no distractions. Or there _will_ be consequences.”

 

“I understand, but...”

 

“Oh I think you don't understand enough yet. I think you really need another lesson – one that truly _hits_ home.” Charles was looking him in the eyes, waiting - like waiting to see if he wanted to really continue the little game. Erik had an idea where this was heading and he found it oddly thrilling. 

 

“Yes, Chef, I think I do – need – another lesson - from you.”

 

A hint of a smile crossed Charles' lips, only for a moment, before it was replaced by a stern expression. “Mere lectures don't seem to stick, so I will try a more archaic teaching method with you.” Charles gaze swept the room, then he indicated one of the steel counters. “Undo your trousers, then bend over the counter there.”With that Charles stepped away from him. Erik took a deep shaky breath, then did as he was told. He was glad to get the wet fabric away from his skin, pushing it down to pile at his feet. He put his hands flat on the counter, the steel feeling smooth and hard, cold at first but warming to his touch and at a perfect height to bend over at. But that was not exactly what he wanted. 

 

Erik looked over his shoulder, searching for Charles. Charles had pulled a wooden spoon out of one of the many drawers. He raised a questioning eyebrow as he saw Erik looking. Erik thrust his ass out, making sure Charles knew he wanted this, but also staying upright, not bending to Charles' will just yet. Not so easily. Charles' eyes narrowed.

 

“I think there is another lesson that didn't quite stick. My kitchen – that means, my word, is law.” Quickly he was at Erik's side, grabbing his arms and pulling them behind his back. One hand holding them locked together, he used the other to push Erik down. The slim spoon-handle he kept holding made the grab extra uncomfortable and Erik wasn't sure if there wouldn't be bruises showing where his ribs had hit the counter, or where the steel dug against his hips, but that was what he had wanted. The wet cotton jacket rubbed uncomfortably against his nipples.

 

There was a fleeting kiss against his neck, and Charles' voice, so much softer. “You just say if you are not ok. And want me to stop.”

 

Erik nodded, before Charles pushed down harder against Erik's back.

 

“Now for lesson one – distractions will come with a price.” The first smack with the spoon was almost a disappointment, a mere distraction compared to the uncomfortable position he was in. The next left a distinct sting.

 

He could hear Charles' rough breathing. Charles wasn't uttering a word, so Erik was only too aware of the slapping sound the spoon made against his slowly raw feeling ass. And how his own breathing sounded ragged, with small whimpers escaping him. He was also made very conscious of when the whimpers turned to small moans of pleasure. His erection was rubbing against the flat surface beneath him, which had grown very warm and at each slap he found himself jerking his hips, trying to intensify the friction. Finally the spanking stopped. The sudden absence of the slapping sounds and the sharp pain made him feel dizzy and raw. 

 

“Charles...” He didn't know if he wanted to ask him to stop or continue. 

 

Something hot and wet suddenly touched his abused sensitive skin. Erik whimpered.

Charles used his tongue to lick lavishly over the abused skin, in-between pressing light kisses against it. He moved up over the small of Erik's back, shoving the white jacket out of the way.

 

Erik realised he was no longer being held down. He tried to push up, to turn around, pull Charles close, but Charles took hold of his neck and pushed him back down. “Now, now. Not so fast. We haven't finished yet. Still one more lesson that I need to make stick.” He moved his fingers to play with Erik's hair, bent over him and nuzzled his neck.

 

“Yes, Chef. Your kitchen – your rules.” It hardly came out as convinced as Erik tried to make it sound. 

 

“That's nice, Erik, but still, I think I will have to make sure you truly remember that.” Charles slowly let go of him again. “But let's see if you can follow it for a moment at least. Stay exactly like that, don't move.” 

 

“What...”

 

But Charles only made a disapproving tsk sound and Erik shut up. Tried to hold still, but he couldn't help shifting slightly.

 

Charles didn't take long. As he came back he caressed Erik's ass lightly with one hand. “Now, following my rules, that wasn't so hard to do.”

 

“Yes, Chef.”

 

“Still I fear you would forget very soon, Erik, if I didn't give you something to remember that rule by.” Charles fingers spread his ass apart, then something wet and cool touched his skin before Charles' slick fingers pushed against his hole. Erik braced himself against the steel counter, trying to spread his legs further. “Oh Erik, that's what you wanted, isn't it. All my attention, only for you.”

 

“Yes... oh yes, please.” Erik felt so aroused, that Charles' fingers entered him easily. He was pushing back against them, wanting to feel them deeper inside him, stretching him, wanting more.

 

“You are such a tease, you have no idea what you were doing to me all this time, how distracting you were...” The fingers withdrew, to be quickly replaced by Charles hard cock. Erik was sure he wouldn't have been able to wait much longer. There was a bit of a burning sensation, but then the delicious feeling of being filled by Charles cock was overwhelming. _'And I am being punished, so I shouldn't enjoy it – fully – for distracting Charles...'_ Erik laughed breathlessly, for how his mind had gotten caught up in their little game and the role he was playing.

 

Charles fingers dug into his hips as he thrust into him. Erik wanted to use one hand to wrap around his own cock, but Charles caught him, pushing the hand back against the counter. “Please Charles, I need to...” A gentle bite on his shoulder shut him up. “I don't think I can let you handle delicate things in my kitchen yet, Erik.” Before Erik could protest further, Charles' hand wrapped around his cock, starting to pump it in time with every thrust.

 

Erik's fingers clawed at the unyielding steel underneath him as all he could do was push his ass back against Charles cock and then forward to fuck Charles hand. The fabric of Charles shirt rubbing roughly against his raw ass, sending additional sparks of pleasure through him. He came, saying Charles name over and over, nearly missing Charles' 'Erik – love you' as he himself came, and then able to dismiss it as nothing but the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears.

 

+++

 

They lay on the white tiles of the kitchen floor. Erik had gotten rid of the wet clothes completely and Charles had pulled him on top of him. Erik would grow cold soon enough, but for now he was enjoying Charles warm body beneath him. And to his abused ass a little bit of cold air felt actually soothing.

 

“This was – crazy.”

 

“Crazy?” Charles sounded amused.

 

“Crazy and hot...” He claimed Charles mouth, making sure he knew just how much he had enjoyed it. “I'm up to it again – sometime. Once my ass gets over the spanking.”

 

“You do have a very delicious ass to spank. Hmm... maybe next time … “There was a wicked twinkle in Charles eyes.

 

Erik pushed himself up on his arms, looking down at Charles. “What?”

 

“Well since this place is currently under reconstruction, maybe I 'll get into a dispute with my architect. Maybe – I have to confess that I will be unable to pay up.”

 

Erik laughed. “Maybe one of the guests wants to complain to the Chef about the horrible food?”

 

Charles frowned. “Now you are being ridiculous!”

 

Erik kissed Charles forehead. “I'm sure we can think of something. For now I guess, we should concern ourselves with getting home – and into bed – together.”

 

Charles kissed him on the mouth. “Mhm, sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma's weird office was inspired by this pic: http://www.minimalisti.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/classical-office-furniture-Smania.jpg 
> 
> I should have gotten all the slipups of writing James instead of Charles this time round, but if any of you spot any mistakes or abuse of the English language, feel free to point them out to me.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks goes to [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts), who again took up the job and betad this chapter, (despite it being haunted ;) ) so it reads more smoothly.  
> All remainig weirdness and mistakes are my own ... or I'll blame the ghost.

Erik sank down on the couch in his mother's living-room. He half closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen and... was that cake? He raised an eyebrow as his mother came in with a tray that held a white porcelain pot and – indeed cake. A generous slice each for the two of them.

 

“Mutti!” Erik protested weakly. “We just had dinner!” Yet he smiled fondly and the cake really looked mouthwatering. He could take a bite or two. And perhaps take some home. Back to Charles' place, that is. Erik tried not to think about how often he was slipping. It was only because Charles' apartment was where he spent most nights. (Every night, to be honest. The last time he slept at _home_ was weeks ago.)

 

“But I wasn't sure you would even still like my food, not with your – boyfriend being Charles Xavier. So I thought, at least you will still like the cake.” She put the cake and coffee on the table in front of the couch, that Erik had laid out with the coffee service before.

 

“I will always like your cooking, and you know that!”

 

Edie sat down beside him and poured them coffee, while Erik sampled the cake. He quickly decided to stop protesting, in case his mother took it to heart and would not make any cake when he visited next.

 

“I haven't seen you for weeks now. Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, same old at work....” he trailed off, looking at his mother's face. She frowned a little, as if she was disappointed with his answer. “But I guess you want to know about how things with Charles are going?” He put the fork down.

 

“You haven't said much on the phone.”

 

“Well, of course not, you never let me get a straight sentence in.”

 

“Erik. That is not true. I always ask but you always start talking about work. It makes me think that you don't want to talk to me about the important things in your life.”

 

“Well I...” There hadn't been much else to tell, before Charles. Now with Charles... He felt like he needed to get his courage up to talk about him with his mother. On the phone he couldn't see her and her reaction to what he told her. In case he was making her feel uncomfortable. That was the sole reason. At least that was what he told himself. And it was simply easier to fall into old habits. “You liked him, didn't you.”

 

“Of course. He's such a nice young man. I still watch his show. Though it is so strange, seeing him on TV and thinking he was here, in my house.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief. Erik was positive, that she had been telling all the neighbours and friends about it. “Eating my cooking! And that he is my son's - boyfriend...” Edie looked at him expectantly. 

 

Erik was at a loss about what to tell her.

 

She sighed. “You are happy, are you not?” 

 

“Yes...” He looked down at his clasped hands. “I guess I am.” Yet there was a strain of uncertainty resonating in his voice. 

 

“What is wrong, Erik?” She put her arm around him, and pulled him closer. As if he were still the little boy who had scraped his knees, sitting on the porch with tears running down his dirt-smeared face. Not the man who was long since been towering over his mother – and who wished he was just that little boy with the scraped knees again. That pain had been simpler, quickly soothed by his mother's care. “All right. If you will not tell your mother, I will have to guess.” 

 

Erik still had no idea how to put it into words, what was bothering him. 

 

“Charles is very busy, so you haven't enough time to see each other? Or is there something you find that you don't like about him?” She released a small but resolute huff. “Is the sex all right?”

 

“Oh my god, Mutti!” Erik sat up straight, shocked and blushing. “Don't... it's great.” He looked at his mother, who was staring back. “You do not really want to know details?!” Erik was horrified by the idea. 

 

“No. Except if it is necessary for you to talk about it. If it is troubling you.” She looked like she was tasting something very sour, but was too stubborn to step away from it. She always accused him of having inherited his father's stubbornness. Rather Erik felt, that _virtue_ rather came from her.

 

“No there is not! The se... everything in the bedroom is fine.” Not to mention the sex on the couch, or in the kitchen... especially the kitchen. Erik quickly stopped thinking about it. “Charles is wonderful.”

 

The look his mother gave him there for a moment was priceless.

 

“A wonderful person!” Erik quickly clarified. “He has such a busy schedule, but we manage. I, well, I didn't move in with him, that's way too early but it's simply easier if I sl – stay the night almost every day, so we at least see each other in the evening. It's not so much that Charles has a regular work-schedule, but he has at least one day off on weekends. Though I think he is doing that deliberately, making sure we have a bit of the weekend for ourselves. Like tomorrow.”

 

Edie looked thoughtful. “You still don't sound happy about it.”

 

Erik laughed. “Why should I be unhappy, when I can see Charles every day?”

 

“You tell me.”

 

Erik's gaze flitted past his mother, to where she had her treasured photos on display. Among them was one of Anya of course. His daughter he never had time for – not enough.

 

“I didn't think this would go anywhere beyond a bit of flirting and maybe – a date or two. I didn't think I would want it to be more.”

 

“You didn't think you would fall in love?” Edie's voice was soft, but the words were hitting home. 

 

Erik looked down.

 

“Why is it worrying you so much? Why can't you be happy about it?”

 

“Because it's not fair. I don't – I don't deserve someone like Charles.”

 

“Oh, my boy.” She stroked over his bent head. “Of course you do. Don't be silly.”

 

“But I had my chance at happiness and I threw it all away. I don't. Not when Anya...” His throat felt suddenly dry. “Why should there be someone in my life, making time for me, when I never did that for my own wife or daughter. - I'm sorry.”

 

He tried not to talk with his mother about it. It was not only him that lost his daughter, she had lost her only granddaughter. He did notice there were still tears coming to her eyes when she picked up Anya's photo now and then.

 

The hand on his head had stilled, but remained a comforting warm weight. “Erik, it's as if you were blaming yourself for her death. But it's not your fault.”

 

“But I should have been there for her and Magda, yet I never made time for them. You know I saw my daughter only a week after her birth.”

 

“Many fathers can't...”

 

“But I could have. I could have told Shaw that my family was more important than my job. I should have.”

 

“Erik, don't do this to yourself. You cannot change the past, you can only look forward. It's still a bit hard for me, thinking that – you are not with a girl. But I see how happy you are together. And that is what counts.”

 

But to Erik it felt like he was turning his back on his past.

 

“Does Charles know?”

 

“I told him a bit about Magda and Anya.” Though he had tried to avoid the subject since, and Charles wasn't prying. So understanding. ' _Damn you Charles_.'

 

“Perhaps you should talk to him about it again. Tell him how you feel.”

 

How he felt? About the past, or about how Charles made him feel - loved. And how Erik felt like he was cheating life.

 

Erik slowly looked up. “I'll think about it.”

 

His mother frowned at him.

 

“I'll talk to him.” He promised.

 

“Good. And why don't the two of you visit next week. Or Mrs. Montgomery next door will think I only made it all up.”

 

Erik laughed. “Do you have no shame?”

 

+++

 

As Erik was getting into his car, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, only wanting to check who it was without picking up, but then he saw the picture of Charles and he had his finger on the button to take the call even before he could think about it. “Hey, Charles.”

 

“Erik, glad to catch you. Where are you right now? Still at your mother's for dinner?”

 

“No, just left and on my way h- to your place.”

 

“ Oh – perfect. That is, would you mind taking a little detour to pick me up?”

 

Erik glanced at his watch. “You finished already?”

 

Charles' warm chuckle sent a little shiver down his spine. “I had all the motivation to wrap up as fast and smoothly as possible. They are still cleaning up. Emma told me though, that I'm _dismissed_.”

 

“Hope you didn't work too hard ...”

 

“Well, depends on who you ask. I might have yelled at Alex and Hank a little more than usual.”

 

“Hank? The tall one with glasses? I gathered he's the type to do what he's told and not the one who threatens to burn down your kitchen.”

 

Charles sighed. “No, but he nearly dropped something as I was yelling at Alex.”

 

“You didn't have to hurry for my sake.” Erik felt slightly uncomfortable.

 

“Perhaps I did it for my own sake, you know. So, you going to pick me up? Emma was going to give me a ride back, but she is still busy.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Good. I'll wait at the studio's back entrance. I'll tell security to let you through. See you.”

 

“OK. Bye.” Erik put the phone into his jacket pocket and started the car. He couldn't shake the nagging guilt all the way on the drive to the studio.

 

+++

 

Charles had been waiting just inside the back entrance, sitting on the stairs. He walked over to the car, opened the passenger seat door, got in and was halfway in Erik's lap, kissing him, before Erik could get a word out. “Missed you.”

 

Erik felt the tension draining away and laughed as they parted. “You've seen me just this morning.”

 

“Yes, but you were hardly awake when I left.” Reluctantly Charles settled back in the seat.

 

“Because it was five in the morning.” Erik protested half-heartedly. He had promised Charles he would get up too as he crawled out of bed at early dawn. But he must have dropped off right away. The next thing he remembered was waking to his phone ringing at 8 am as Charles texted him from the studio. He sighed. “Sorry, I really meant to get up.” He started the car and brought them back from behind the studio buildings and out into the busy street.

 

Charles smiled. “It's all right. It gave me time to snap a picture of you for my phone. I really like the ones you sent me, but I needed something more – innocent looking as you caller ID photo.”

 

“I want to see that before I give you permission to use it.”

 

“Actually I was already using it...and some people might have already seen it. Hank said you don't lool scary at all when you are asleep.” 

 

“I should make you pay for this infringement.“ Erik growled, though he wasn't really angry.

 

Charles' eyes brightened and he sounded rather eager. “Oh yes, I think you should.” 

 

Erik sighed in exasperation while a fond smile was playing around his lips. “So you finished that whole seafood special in one go?”

 

“Not really. The stuff in the studio-kitchen, yes. But there will be two outdoor-shoots that go with the show. One at a fish-market and another at the aquarium. Actually Emma asked if you would want to join me at the latter, when I mentioned that you had gone diving.”

 

“No!”

 

“Don't worry, Erik, that's what I told her too. Still, she wanted me to ask you, in case you had changed your mind after the photo shoot. Now I can tell her I did.” Charles looked pleased.

 

“It wasn't that bad. You were very distracting. But I still haven't seen the photos yet!”

 

“Azazel will send them over, one of these days, the ones that passed his and Emma's critical eye, that is”

 

Charles seemed to have dropped the subject about the aquarium, but Erik was still thinking about it. Perhaps he should not refuse outright. He could just come along and watch – for Charles sake. To get his manager off Charles' back and – he should try harder. Charles' shouldn't make it so easy for him. He didn't deserve that.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has some time to himself...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm getting slower at updating. Life is a bit hectic at the moment. I hope I can pick up the pace again.  
> Again, many thanks to the wonderful [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts)who does such a terrific, really quick and also entertaining job in betaing. <3
> 
> WARNING: Emotional crippled Erik! Angst! Charles gets scared.

“Where are you?”

 

“On the way to my apartment.” Erik took a moment to check for cars, before he crossed the side street. “Thought I might use the evening to check up on my place. And I need a new tie to go with that maroon shirt, since someone made sure the grey one was unusable - and you refused to let me wear the purple one with it.” 

 

Despite only hearing Charles’ voice, Erik could almost see the smile on his face. “I have a reputation of good taste to uphold, which extends to my boyfriend. Though I think we still can use the grey tie for – something.”

 

Erik chuckled. “My instincts told me not to ditch it.” If he were home already, he would make Charles tell him exactly what he had in mind.

 

“Do your instincts also tell you to come home tonight? I had hoped to be able to snuggle into bed with you when I get back.”

 

“You said so yourself, the gala dinner will take till the morning. You'll probably get home right when I have to get up.” Though Erik would not mind having a dishevelled and sleepy Charles falling into his arms in the morning as a wake up call. Yet it would make getting out of bed that much harder. “Better I don't distract you from finally getting some sleep.”

 

Charles heaved a small sigh. “You're right. Still – by the way, Emma told me Azazel sent some printouts of the photos we had taken. He sent it to your address, since that was the one on the contract you signed.”

 

Erik shivered. “Don't remind me.”

 

“Emma showed me some – I think they look good. I thought...” Charles stopped, as if he changed his mind on what he was going to say. “I think they will look good in the book. But just take a look first. You still have a say in this.”

 

“That's not it. I just remembered signing that contract, with Mrs. Frost standing there beside me, watching me like a hawk. It felt a bit like I was signing over my soul to her.”

 

Charles’ laughter filled his ears. “You make her sound like...what?” Erik heard some snippets of conversation in the background on Charles’ side, then: “Sorry, Erik. Got to go.”

 

“Hope all will go well, bye!” Erik had learned to cut the conversation short in such cases, and not to be surprised when Charles hung up without another word. Erik put the phone back into his pocket. Up ahead he already could make out his apartment block. He sighed a little. It did not feel like coming home.

 

+++

 

First thing he did, after entering his apartment, was to open some windows, to let in fresh air. Then he rummaged through the fridge, to see if there was something still salvageable in there. He ended up sitting on the couch with a small glass of Apple-strudel - liqueur and salt crackers. He also turned on the stereo to whatever CD had played last. Not so much for entertainment, but the place seemed oddly empty and silent. Before he had enjoyed the solitude of his place. Now whenever he got home ahead of Charles, it was not so very different either. He sat on the couch, maybe read a book or watched TV. The only difference was, that he knew Charles would be coming home. 

 

His gaze swept the room, searching for distractions. Maybe he should just watch TV or... His attention was caught by the photos he had on display. Neatly framed, pressed behind glass, a frozen moment of a life past – no – his life, this life. It was the same. Fresh starts were nice tropes in books and stories, but how... Erik pressed his lips together and averted his gaze, though his thoughts were not so easily turned away. Was this how Magda had felt, when he was off on one of his business-trips and not coming home.

 

Erik's gaze fell on the brown envelope he had put on the couch table. He reached for it, slowly pried it open and pulled out a stack of glossy prints. There were rather a lot. Erik hadn’t expected that many. There was the moment when Charles had tied the apron around him for the second time, captured on film. Erik stared at it. Almost reluctantly he put the picture aside, to look at the next and the next. His heart started beating more quickly.

 

One photo showed him hell-bent on dicing tomatoes into same sized pieces. Charles was standing back to Erik's right, reaching for something from the sideboard, but his gaze was on Erik, and his smile... Erik felt a hot and cold shiver run through his body. The photograph made it look, like it was just the two of them. It showed an intimacy he couldn't remember being there on set. He remembered the lights, the people – from Charles’ assistants to Mrs. Frost – watching. Charles had managed to distract him, it was true, but every time he let his gaze stray from Charles he caught something that made him tense, fully aware that they were not alone but under close scrutiny.

 

You would never guess by looking at the photos. And they were all like that.

 

How come he seemed so blissful, smiling genuinely, as he looked at Charles. 

 

His finger brushed over his own face in the picture. He did look happy – everything seemed perfect. Slowly Erik got up and walked over to the shelf that held the picture of him, Magda and Anya. He picked up the frame, staring at the three smiling faces. He searched them, for traces of the unhappiness that lurked underneath. A perfect little world, that came crashing down suddenly. Had it ever been perfect, had Magda ever felt happy with him? He tried to see traces of the hate she had spewed at him after Anya's death. He couldn't find them. He closed his eyes, tried to remember. But even the times he came back from some business-trip his family seemed to welcome him home. His eyes opened and his gaze flickered to the picture of him and Charles he still held in his other hand. A cold shiver ran down his spine and suddenly something heavy was pushing down on him, making it hard to breathe. Legs trembling, he sank to his knees. He'd had his chance, he messed it up, why should he get another, when his daughter hadn't even had that much? Blood was rushing in his ears, his throat felt tight. A tear dropped down on to the picture in his hand.

 

And that was the only thing left of a happiness that had passed. He didn't deserve anything else. He'd had his chance – he'd let it slip away. How could he be so happy when his own little girl had died, her frail little body eaten by worms. Erik's stomach lurched, and he stumbled to his feet and ran to the bathroom, retching into the cold white toilet bowl until he was only dry heaving. He curled up on the tiles, shaking, staring at the empty white walls.

 

What had he been thinking, starting to build a sweet new life with Charles when those who were more deserving didn't even get a chance to live.

 

xxx

 

Erik woke up in his bed to the shrilling of the alarm. Instinctively he reached out to the space beside him, before he realised he was alone in his own bed. Slowly he pushed himself up onto his arm. He was still wearing yesterdays T-shirt. He remembered staggering to his feet as his body had started to feel numb from the cold tiles, stripping only his trousers before he crawled into bed, feeling exhausted and raw. For a moment he just sat there at the edge of the bed, staring into space, half formed thoughts and ideas filling his head.

 

Finally he stood up and made his way through his apartment, searching for his phone. He called in at work first. They weren't happy about his request, but he still sounded somewhat bad and the mention of family-matters swept any further protests aside. Next was the airport, then a hotel he found online. Finally he called his mother. 

 

In the end there was only one number left to call.

 

Erik went to pack.

 

Finally everything was ready. He still hadn't called that final number- he picked up the phone, his finger hovering above the screen. But what if he heard his voice and found he couldn't go through with this? Lulled back into believing this could work out for him, when he knew deep down it could not.

 

He placed the phone back on the table, grabbed his bag, turned around, and headed for the door. 

 

 

xxx

 

It was noon when Charles crawled out of bed, more for the sake of not getting his sleep schedule screwed up too much, than because he felt really awake. He checked his phone before he headed into the kitchen. Tea and something with vitamins and sugar would be essential, if he didn't want to spend the day in a state of constant exhaustion. 

 

A banana, kiwi, apple and a pear made their way into the mixer. It was not one of his nicer looking creations, but it tasted good and did the job. After he downed the mix he settled down at his kitchen table. While taking small sips he typed out a new message on his phone.

 

_Morning Erik, hope you slept well. It was one of those nights, seemed like it didn’t want to end and then suddenly it was morning and everyone was packing and cleaning up._

_Hope I’ll see you this evening, even if you didn’t find a matching tie. But I think you match my bed best when you are naked anyway. Call me when you get off work. C._

 

It was a bit silly, but then he actually enjoyed feeling silly when it came to Erik. Though not silly enough to write ‘ _Love you’_ at the end, but he hoped Erik would let him say it one of these days.

 

xxx

 

Charles was pacing, restless, phone in hand. It was dark outside, the arms of the clock in his kitchen showed, close to midnight. Even if Erik would have had to stay late, he never had been _that_ late before. And neither did he answer his messages – nor pick up his phone. 

 

What if something had happened? He wasn’t Erik’s contact for emergencies, so no one would think of calling him. The person they would contact was Erik’s mother. But he didn’t have her number, and as far as he knew, Erik never gave her his. And even if that weren't the case, would she think of calling him?

 

Charles hovered at one of the windows, looking out. Somewhere out there...

Perhaps it was nothing bad. But then Erik would have called. Or would have asked his mother to call!

 

Charles quickly made his way upstairs to his office area and turned on the computer. For the next two hours he searched on any news sites he could find for reported accidents, robberies anything that could prevent Erik from calling. Nothing! Nothing where the victim matched Erik by name or description. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad or even more worried. But there was still Erik’s mother. He might not be able to call her, but he did remember where she lived. It might be rude to just show up on her doorstep, but really, he couldn’t just sit here and wait. 

 

But should he go right now? It was late, and if everything was alright and this was just a – misunderstanding, (Though what sort, he couldn't imagine.), he would not make friends with her by waking her in the middle of the night, banging at her door. And if Erik was at a hospital, Edie was probably there. Or maybe he hit someone again and was sitting in a prison cell till he cooled off – not allowed any calls. Maybe that was it. Maybe his former boss had showed up... Charles closed his eyes, trying for slow deep breaths. Everything was going to be alright, everything had to be. The agitation didn’t wane. He rubbed his hands over his face, grabbing at his own hair. 

“Fuck!” In defeat Charles just flopped down on the ground. _‘Whatever happened – Erik - , please be alright! Please! I love you!'_

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed valiantly by the wonderful [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) , who showed no fear in the face of missing commas and apostrophs, and weird half finished sentences. ;)
> 
> Probably wont be able to finish this by chapter 35, so expect the chapter count to still grow a little.  
> ###

It was a beautiful spring morning. The sky was blue, only dotted with some harmless puffy clouds and the air felt warm. There were green leaves and flowers blooming everywhere. A perfect day, people would say.

 

Erik had not been able to get much sleep on the long distance flight, nor the train-ride from Frankfurt to Bonn. Now his body told him, that it was the middle of the night, while the sun told him something else. He had already checked into the hotel and the bed there had looked tempting. But if he were to give in, he would wake up in the evening, ending up awake for the whole night. Not that it would matter that much. There was no one he was going to meet, nor was he here to do the typical tourist stuff. But the last thing he wanted, was to be alone with his thoughts in the quiet night, with nothing to distract him. So he would stay up until the evening, wander the city, trying to think of nothing.

 

The next tram-station was close and it only took him a moment to orientate himself. He hadn't been in this particular area of Bonn before, even while he'd lived close and went to work in the city, but everything seemed small and strangely familiar.

 

He stood staring out of the tram windows, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, taking in the smaller built houses, the trees lining the street. It was strange hearing all the people around him talk German. Almost surreal. He felt disconnected and out of place.

 

Erik got off close to the old town centre and started walking the streets. There was one place he needed to visit, but the thought of going there – he couldn't face it, not yet. Ten hours to kill. Then hopefully, once he got into bed, he would be exhausted enough to just pass out and not wake till morning. He finally emerged at the big town - square, where at one end stood the old town-house. He stopped, looking at the pink and white building. It looked just like he remembered it. _'Papa, is it a castle? It looks like a castle for a princess. Can we go inside?_ ' Erik could still hear Anya’s voice in his head.

 

He and Magda had had Anya between them, and though he'd had explained it was not a princesses' castle, she hadn't really seemed convinced. _'Perhaps a princess lived here before! And then a dragon came and snatched her away and people forgot it was a princess' castle.’_ As they had walked away, Anya had tried to look back again and again, fascinated by the building, so he and Magda had lifted her by her little arms, and swung her between them, to distract her. Otherwise, they had joked, they wouldn't be able to leave at all. He vaguely remembered having to play dragon and princess with his daughter, tickling her as he proclaimed he would eat her, and she protested that he was a luckdragon like in the Neverending Story and he'd have to take her on an adventure so he...

 

Erik’s vision blurred. He pushed his sunglasses up to rub at his eyes. He was not ready for this. He turned his back on the bright ornate building and headed for one of the shadowy side streets. Nearly at the street, he remembered a restaurant he'd frequented, was located there as well. His stomach gave an undignified rumbling sound. When was the last time he had eaten? Not in the morning when he left, nor on the plane. He would stop feeling so queasy once he ate something. At least this one thing in his life could be dealt with easily.

 

xxx

 

Sometime in the night Charles had finally fallen asleep. He ended up waking later than he'd had intended, still clutching his phone in one hand.

 

Charles didn’t bother with breakfast and had to force himself to take the time to make himself look presentable, before he stormed out of the apartment. He flagged down a taxi. Taking public transport would take too long and driving himself was out of the question. He felt jittery enough to consider running red lights.

Though the drive left him with nothing to do and way too much time to start worrying again. Somewhere amidst the mess his mind was in, he remembered he had a meeting with Emma, scheduled for ten. Charles glanced at his watch. That was like, in half an hour. He pulled his phone out of his bag, pressed the dial button for Emma’s number, but then cut the connection before the call could go through. To hell with it, he didn’t feel like dealing with any remarks from his manager. He quickly typed out a message. _‘Can’t make it to the meeting. Call you later.’_ He then put his phone on mute. Just in time, since Emma called back right away. Charles ignored it, as well as the two calls that followed.

 

Right as he reached Edie’s house, the phone announced a text-message. For an absurd moment he hoped it would be from Erik, but it was only Emma. He shoved the phone back into his pocket without even bothering to read her message, paid the driver, then hurried over the paved driveway to Edie Lehnsherr's door. Heart hammering in his chest, he rang the bell.

 

He waited.

 

He tried the doorbell again.

 

Slowly, a sinking feeling started to form in the pit of his stomach.

 

Erik's mother had been his only hope. He had no idea what to do, if she wasn’t here - that could only mean...

 

“If you have a package or letter for her, I can take it.”

 

Charles looked around, confused, noting a tall woman leaning over the hedgerow from the place next door. She eyed him curiously. “She just went out to get grocer... OH MY GOD! Mr. Xavier – it is you! Oh, Edie told us everything about meeting you.” For a moment Charles feared the woman would climb over the hedge, but she was just leaning forward, pushing against a narrow gate. He had missed it at first glance, since it was overgrown with some sort of ivy. Finally it sprung open with a creak and the woman rushed forward. Charles was hard pressed not to instinctively back away. She grasped his hand as she reached him, shaking it vigorously. “I love your show and your recipe forRhubarb-Mascarpone Mousse Cake- to die for! I made it for one of the big family dinners and I can tell you, the mother of my daughter’s husband went green with envy, 'cause everybody liked it better than her dessert.”

 

“That is – nice. Thank you.” Finally Charles managed to free his hand. “Edie is at home, you say?”

 

“What? Yes, yes, just went out a short while ago. She should be back any moment. But I can’t let you wait on the porch. Why don’t you come and wait at my place. Oh, silly me, I didn’t even introduce myself, Caroline Montgomery **,** such a pleasure to meet you. But I said that already, didn't I.”

 

Charles only heard half of what was said. _'Edie is out for groceries, not at a hospital, but what about Erik, perhaps I should have checked his place first, what if he slipped – fell... oh my god, I should have...'_ Panic surged up again.

 

“You look pale all of a sudden, are you unwell? Really, you should come over to wait inside and sit down for a little while.” Mrs. Montgomery took his arm, wanting to lead him away, but Charles didn't allow himself to be pushed.

 

“No! Thank you, but no. I will wait here. She will be back soon, right?”

 

“But you can see the porch directly from my window over there, you wouldn't miss her.” The woman was insistent.

 

Charles gritted his teeth. It wouldn't do to upset Edie's neighbours. “I really rather stay out here. I think the fresh air will do me good.”

 

“Charles!” Edie's surprised voice, coming from somewhere behind him, was the most wonderful thing Charles had heard all day.

 

xxx

 

Edie had quickly taken charge of the situation , ushering Charles into the house, while dismissing her neighbour with a few friendly but decided words. Charles found himself sitting on the couch in Edie's living room. She had disappeared into the kitchen, before Charles could get his anxious question in.

 

Charles took a deep breath. _'What if she doesn't know either...'_ He shook his head. “... Edie!”

 

She appeared at the door to the kitchen. “So sorry for my neighbour. She is terribly chatty. But so nice of you to visit.” She stopped as she saw Charles expression. “Is everything alright?”

 

Charles shook his head again. “I … do you know what happened to Erik?” Edie seemed blissfully unaware and now she had to hear Erik had disappeared from him. What if this would turn into a nightmare for the both of them. Charles clasped his trembling hands together and licked his lips nervously. “I can't reach him on the phone. He didn't come home last night, and I don't know what happened. I'm sorry, I thought they would contact you, if something had happened, and I don't have keys to his apartment and perhaps he is...”

 

Edie looked shocked for a moment. That look turned into one of compassion and confusion as she rushed forward. She clasped Charles hands as she sat down beside him. “No, Charles, nothing happened, what – didn't he tell you?”

 

“What?” _'Nothing happened? Erik is alright? What's going on?'_ Charles felt dizzy with hope and confusion.

 

“Erik called me yesterday morning to tell me that there were a lot of things he needed to think through. He booked a flight to Germany, he said he wanted to visit Anya's grave and...” Edie searched Charles' face. “He didn't tell you?” She sounded disbelieving.

 

“No.”

 

The changes were minimal, the lines on Edie's forehead deepened in a frown, she sat up a little straighter, her lips were pinched together. For a moment Charles thought she would scold him, but her voice was gentle and sympathetic as she spoke. “Charles, I am so sorry! What has that boy been thinking!? I really have no idea why he didn't tell you. Oh dear and you have been so worried.”

 

Charles first and foremost felt relief. Erik was alright. Then there was confusion. “I don't know... Last time I heard from him, was before he went to his apartment. He said he would spend the night there 'cause he needed to get some things and anyways, I had to work late.” Charles tried to make some sense of what had happened. Why had Erik just disappeared on him?

 

There was no response for a moment, then, in a resolute gesture, Edie put her arm around his shoulder. “I really don't understand it. Please, Charles, believe me, I am sure he did not want to scare you like this. I know he loves you.” She sounded very certain – unlike Charles.

 

“I thought he did – he didn't say it. He doesn't even like me saying it. But I thought – the way he said and did other things...” He looked at her, not certain if he should say all that. Were mothers usually comfortable about hearing these things about their sons? She didn't seem entirely at ease with the fact that her son liked men as well as women, though she did call them boyfriends first.

 

She squeezed his shoulder. “You thought right. I have seen the two of you together. And we talked. He might not be ready to say it, but he does. Please don't give up on him.”

 

“Then why didn't he tell me and just – “ _'What? Ran. Disappeared. Why did he feel the need to? Did everything between us happen too fast? By god that wasn't planned, but it just felt so right. I wanted him closer, was that so wrong? He seemed comfortable with it, staying at my place, spending time together. Was it the photo-shoot? - I shouldn't have asked him about the aquarium. Perhaps it got too much, just as Emma feared...'_

 

“Erik said, he told you a little about Anya and his ex-wife?”

 

Charles nodded. “I saw the picture at his apartment. He said Anya died of cancer...” His gaze was drawn to the picture of the little girl with the school cone. Edie noticed. She nodded, then slowly stood up. She went over to the pictures on display and took the one of Anya. She brought it back with her when she went to sit down beside Charles again. He found her warm presence soothing.

 

“Erik seemed to feel guilty for not being there when she died, and before, when Magda had to take her to the treatments by herself.” Charles concluded with what he knew.

 

“She was such a happy little girl – our little sunshine.” Edie smiled down at the picture. It was a sad smile. “Erik was really devastated when she died. Magda...” She sighed. “Well, she didn't help matters. She was so full of rage and hatred and directed it all at Erik. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't forgive him.” Edie shook her head. “Erik wanted to make everything alright. He wanted to be someone his family could be proud of – and he himself could be proud of too. He wanted everything to be perfect and completely forgot to be there, in person, for his little family. He was still so young himself.”

 

Edie's thumbs stroked up and down over the smooth frame. “It went very quickly then. The divorce, their house getting sold – Erik quit his job, left it all behind and came back here. But he still feels that it's his fault.” Finally she looked back at Charles. “He also told me, he thinks he doesn't deserve you.”

 

Charles didn't know how to respond. He felt like he couldn't fully comprehend the meaning of what Edie told him. But he knew Erik hadn't left everything behind, but dragged all his guilt along with him, into what should have been a new start.

 xxx

 

“Here is my phone number, and I now have yours too. Erik said that he will be back by Wednesday. As soon as he is, I will call you. And I'll make sure he does too and apologises to you.”

 

That made Charles smile a little. Having Edie on his side felt good.

 

“And if you want to come over and talk some more, you can do that anytime you like. Just call beforehand, so Mrs. Montgomery does not get at you again.”

 

Charles nodded. “I will do that. Good bye - and thank you, Edie.” Charles nodded at her, then turned to head for the waiting taxi.

 

“Charles...”

 

He turned to look back at her, questioning.

 

“Please – I hope you can forgive Erik.”

 

Charles stopped. He had been so relieved to find out nothing had happened to Erik, that there seemed to be no room left for any other feelings. But that was slowly draining away. Edie's words had managed to give him a glimpse into the reasons why Erik had just disappeared, but...

_'He could have messaged me at least. Didn't he care enough...?'_ Charles wanted to grab Erik, shake him, push him hard against a wall and shout at him.

 

“I hope so too.” He would have to wait for Erik to come back to really know.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik is trying to find peace. Charles is finding anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the wonderful [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) for being such a quick and enternaining beta again. :)

It had taken Erik two days to build up enough courage to go to the cemetery. Two days of wandering around Bonn, being confronted with memories of his past, his family – and amidst it all, finding himself thinking of Charles at odd times. 

 

On the afternoon he'd wandered along the Rhine-promenade. He remembered the comic-festival that had been held at the Beethoven-Hall and its surroundings. Magda, Anya and he had stumbled upon it by chance. But Anya had been so fascinated by the colourfully dressed up people, mostly teenagers, that they took a closer look, strolling around. The highlight had been when Anya recognised some girls, or rather, their costumes. She had been practically starstruck. Finally Erik had asked the girls if he could take a picture of them with Anya. Erik had felt awkward, asking girls wearing rather short skirts for a picture, when there were more eye-catching costumes around. But Anya had stared open-mouthed at one of the girls and had asked her if she really was 'Sailor Moon' and from there on, the girls had been practically gushing over his daughter with exclamations of 'She knows us!' 'A Fan!' 'Oh my god, she'd make a perfect Chibiusa!' (whatever that was).

 

He guessed Magda still had the pictures. She had taken most. Of them 

 

While he had retraced their steps along the promenade, his gaze had fixed on the water of the Rhine, and that had made his thoughts drift back to Charles. To the photo-shoot at the aquarium Charles had asked him to join – and the tentative plans they'd had already made for a possible holiday involving a beach and clear blue water, swimming, diving – and sea turtles. And he'd fucked it up. How was it that he'd thought he'd be able to hold on to such a perfect relationship – a new life? He had not even left a note for Charles. He wouldn't have needed to call, he could have just texted him. 

 

A few times Erik had ended up in one of the rare telephone boxes in Bonn, Charles number scribbled from memory onto a piece of paper, in front of him. Every time he hung up before the call could make it through.

 

‘ _Messing everything up Erik, just as I said you would.’_ His guilty conscience had Magda’s voice.

 

If Charles would refuse to speak to him ever again – well he didn’t deserve anything else.

 

The panic that threatened to overwhelm him at that thought, scared him even more. 

 

He stopped and closed his eyes for a moment, only to realise as he looked up, that he had already reached the entrance to the Jewish cemetery, not far from the centre of the city. Behind a large gate, a long path stretched out. Part of it was bathed in warm golden light shining through the canopy of large trees. He looked up, squinting into the cloudless blue sky. Everything looked peaceful; it made Erik feel nauseated. 

 

Slowly he dragged himself forward, his steps slow and hesitant. Erik had realised, that he only had a vague recollection of where the grave was located. The funeral was a blur of emotions in his mind, filled with the tension between Magda and him and laden with grief. He'd only come here once afterwards, just before he moved back to the States. But Erik hoped instinct would take over and lead him where he needed to go.

 

xxx

 

Charles sat in Emma's office. Today he found the walls with their illusionary painting especially irritating. He tried to concentrate on Emma - or the high backed, cream coloured chair she sat in, or even the black shelf behind her. Emma smiled at him, fully aware of how uncomfortable he felt right now. It was no coincidence she had not agreed to meet in one of Charles' restaurants as per usual.

 

He had apologised to her on the phone, right after he'd had come back from seeing Edie and getting his head around the information he had gleaned about Erik's disappearance. But Emma had not been amused about having her schedule messed with on such short notice. He'd had to tell her what had happened – about Erik running off – and she had decided on a new meeting for Monday, without even checking with him. But of course she knew that he had time. 

 

“I wont say 'I told you so', because I didn't, did I? He seemed genuinely taken with you and willing to accept what it means to be with you. So I understand his vanishing act came as a – shock. But really, Charles, you have to focus on what is important. You can't let him drag you down like this.” 

 

Charles had his arms crossed in front of him and he was aware that he was scowling. Only part of him wondered if Emma not using Erik's name was a coincidence, had some purpose or just meant she was really terribly pissed off at him.

 

“I am not saying this as your manager now, but I think it's best to move on quickly.”

 

Charles felt angry. At Erik for just disappearing, for not calling, for not answering any of his messages – and at Emma for speaking of it and trying to give him shit for advice. And at himself, because he didn't know what to do. “He is only gone till Wednesday. He will be back. “

 

“Don't tell me you've actually considered getting back together with him?” Emma looked taken aback.

 

“Emma, I know what this looks like, but we didn't break up. I have a vague idea why Erik – panicked. But I want to hear it from him.”

 

“I'm sorry if this sound harsh to you, but he left you, without a message. And he hasn't bothered getting into contact with you since. I think that makes it clear how much he cares about this relationship. And the sooner you put some distance between yourself and that mess, the better.”

 

Charles pressed his lips firmly together. He would not start pondering why he hadn't heard from Erik by now – not again. If it weren't for Edie's words, he might have been with Emma on this. Still, Erik not even sending even one short note, like he had completely forgotten Charles. That hurt. _'Fuck! No more thinking about it or I'll go insane!'_ Instead he said: “I'm terribly sorry for cancelling the meeting last Friday.”

 

“You already apologised, and it's not about that. But you can't dwell on the past and let it affect everything you do. And from what I heard from Moira ..:”

 

“You talked to Moira?” Charles cut in, half aghast. The few times those two had met - well, he had been under the impression that Emma and Moira were polite with each other but didn't have anything in common that would warrant for more than the necessary small-talk. So far he had observed them greeting each other whenever they met, then keeping a distance to avoid any awkward silences.

 

“Of course I talked to her! I had to find out how you are holding up. And she said you have been more testy than usual, yelling at your staff.”

 

“I didn't know you even had her number. - And I always yell at them.”

 

Emma just smiled. “Don't try and sidetrack, Charles.”

 

“So what? My boyfriend shocks me into thinking something happened to him and I only find out from his mother, that he –“ _'Don't say ran off'_ \- “took a sudden vacation. Of course I'm a little upset. But that doesn't mean that our relationship has run its course. Not before we've had time to talk it out!” _'And I had a chance to yell at_ _ **him**_ _– if Erik were here right now...'_ Charles' knuckles whitened as he balled his hands into tight fists.

 

Emma leant back, looking vexed. “So when will he come back?”

 

“Wednesday.”

 

“What if you break up then?”

 

“I told you, this does not mean we are breaking up...” He hoped it didn't. But he couldn't know. It all depended on Erik. Charles gritted his teeth.

 

“So you will simply forgive him and take him back, despite him having hurt you.”

 

“I didn't say that either.” Charles stood up. “You make it sound like there are only those two options.” He turned his back on her and walked over to one of the large windows, raking his hand through his hair.

 

“I need you to think about what might and what might not happen on Wednesday. And how it will affect you and your work. Will you be able to show up for Chef X on Thursday?”

 

“I will do my work. Just as I did last Saturday!” Charles growled at her. “And I know you need to know because of the bloody cookbook.”

 

“We still have time to make adjustments. So far it might only mean one wasted photo-shoot.”

 

Thinking of the pictures of Erik and him together, Charles turned back towards the window again, hiding the tears he felt well up in his eyes.

 

xxx

 

Erik stared at the black tomb stone and the name engraved on it. It felt surreal, just as surreal as seeing his little girl all lifeless and pale had been. Her eyes had been closed, they had tried to arrange her to look as peaceful as possible, yet she had not looked as if she were asleep. She had seemed – different. Like it wasn't really Anya, but a doll made up to look like her, an empty husk without a soul. All that was left... 

 

He reached out. His fingers brushed against the stone, tracing Anya's name. There was nothing left of her now. Only this.

 

The grave appeared tended to and there was a row of colourful stones lined up neatly at its base. He had wondered if he would be alone here – that is, it was after all possible for him to run into Magda. What would she say? All he could think of was to apologise... He gave in to the sudden urge to look around. If she saw him at their daughter's grave, would she come up to him to talk or turn around and leave right away? But there was no one. Not even a glimpse of someone passing in the distance. Only a lone squirrel ran across the path and disappeared up the next tree.

 

Erik let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding and turned back to the grave. It was just as before. Unsure, he sank to his knees. He stuck his hand into the pocket of his jacket, fingers wrapping around the two stones he had carried along. One for himself and another his mother had asked him to place at the grave in her stead. But again his gaze fell on the stones already there. Each painted a different colour. Reluctantly he drew back his hand from his pocket, then took one blue stone. The paint was a bit smudged at the top. His eyes widened in surprise as his gaze fell on the underside of the stone. It was not just painted one colour but actually showed a small picture. It looked like the old town-house, with its white and pink façade. It was framed by rose bushes that held a crown above the building. Just as Anya had imagined it, a fairytale castle. 

 

Hand shaking, he put the stone back. It was painful but he slowly picked up one after the other, recognising the small scenes from Anya's life painted on them in loving detail. He held a green one in his hand, puzzling over the picture. A big car... Erik frowned. The ground it drove on was made out of small coloured dots, and there were hands, and the scene was framed by wrapped up sweets. Could it be a carnival parade? He was sure he never had been – but then he remembered pictures he had seen of Anya wearing different costumes, and the heaps of candy she had collected, and her yelling ' _Kamelle, Kamelle, Kamelle!_ ' at the top of her lungs while running through the house, while he had a splitting headache from lack of sleep, just home from a business trip... Erik suddenly felt like an intruder. This was not _his_ memory of his little girl. He had not been there. Quickly he put the stone back down and winced at the sound it made. He scrambled to his feet and took some steps back, staring at the black gravestone for a time before he turned around and quickly walked away.

 

As he reached the cemetery’s gate he remembered the stones in his pocket. He stopped and looked back along the gravel path. The sun slanting through the canopies of the trees painting patterns of light and dark on the ground, shifting ever so slightly with the wind.

 

He could go back... tomorrow. His flight was only leaving in three days. He still had two more days to come back.

 

Ducking his head he walked out of the cemetery grounds.

 

xxx

 

Charles stood on his terrace, looking out over the city. The dark buildings were dotted with glowing lights, while the sky turned a dark shade of blue that still looked washed out close to the horizon, with a hint of orange from the setting sun. He sipped at his glass of wine without really tasting it.

 

He had to wait two more days. He frowned – if Edie weren't to tell Erik to call him, would he? Did he want to break up? Yet he still had the keys to the apartment. His things were still here. But if he cared, he would have... given some sign that he was alright and Charles didn't have to worry. Email, text, hell he could have even written a postcard. Though, the rational part of his mind threw in, that a card might not reach him before Erik himself came back.

 

Perhaps Emma was right and he was wasting his time and feelings on a lost cause.

 

The thought left a burning feeling in his chest.

 

Charles turned his back on the city view and slid down to the ground. He rested his arms on his knees and slumped forward. The phone, still stuck in the back-pocket of his jeans, made its presence felt in an uncomfortable way. He pulled it out. Without thinking, he slid a finger over the screen and searched his contacts until he had Erik's number right in front of him. He stared at the picture of Erik and felt a stab of pain. Fingers shaking, he called up the last text-message Erik had sent him. It was trivial.

_'At a meeting about one of the next projects. You know what is exciting about a parking garage? Nothing! I'm distracting myself by thinking of you. Will you be home when I get off work? Your schedule is still confusing me – or perhaps it's just you. ;) E'_

Still, it felt relevant.

 

His thumb brushed over the touch-screen again and he called up Edie's number. Finger hovering over the call button, he checked his watch first before pressing it.

 

“Hello, Charles?”

 

“Hello Edie, yes, it's me. Sorry to call you so late.”

 

“Oh no, nonsense. I'm glad to hear from you. Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes...” The concept of simply telling someone else’s mother about his worries and fears was strange. His own mother never had been very interested. He barely heard from her now – or saw her. So, should he really...? But Edie took that decision from him.

 

“You don't sound alright. - You miss Erik?”

 

Charles took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes I do miss him -” And for some reason he didn't stop at that. It all just came gushing out. “And I'm angry at him - my manager isn't helping and I haven't even mentioned anything about Erik just disappearing like that to my sister, because I know she will start tearing Erik apart – verbally I mean, and I'm not ready for that. And it's getting harder to wait and wonder. I mean, doesn't he think that I might be worried about him, when he disappears for a week? Shouldn't he have worried about giving me some life-sign by now!”

 

“I agree with you Charles. I know it will only be a small comfort, if I tell you I haven't had any news of him either. Maybe he thinks you will have figured out what happened by now, by contacting his work or me. Maybe he wants to apologise in person and maybe he just wants you angry at him.”

 

“Do you think he wants to break it off?”

 

Edie was silent for a moment. “If he does, I think it is not because he doesn't love you, but because he is scared of it. He didn't think he would fall in love again. I think he thought no one would fall in love with him either. He is – stubborn when he has formed an opinion.”

 

Charles felt himself relax ever so slightly. “I am stubborn too.”

 

“Would you like to come over tomorrow, if you have time? I know you have a very busy schedule; Erik told me.”

 

Charles bit his lip. “Yes, that would be nice, if you don't mind. - And if you allow me to bring a cake.”

 

Edie was quite flustered at the suggestion, especially when Charles clarified he would bake a cake, just for her, and she let it slip that she would invite the neighbours for tea afterwards, graciously sharing the special Chef Xavier cake...and maybe showing off – just a little. They fixed a time, then Charles hung up.

 

Still he kept sitting on the ground, staring into space. Thinking about all the ways Erik coming back might go.

 

xxx

 

Carefully, Erik placed the two stones on the grave. They looked insignificant next to the colourful ones Magda had put there. His fingers touched the gravestone again. It didn't feel any different from last time. He didn't feel any different.

Reluctantly he stepped back. 

 

“I'm sorry I haven't come sooner... I'll never forget you... I'm sorry...”

 

That was stupid. All that was left here of his daughter was her name on a cold stone slab. Nothing more.

 

He turned around and walked away. After a few steps he stopped and turned around once more. The grave was there, silent and unchanged. His hand reached out towards it as if looking for something he could touch, something to hold on to, but then he let it sink. More slowly this time, he turned away and walked back where he had come from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamelle - originally means caramel, but can be used generally for sweets. It's yelled during the carneval in the Bonn/Köln area during the carneval processions. Candies (along with other things) gets thrown from the carneval-wagons then.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: This chapter is short, not happy at all and ends in a nasty cliffhanger. The next chapter is in its editing stage and will be posted in the next one or two days, so if you would rather avoid this, I recommend to wait a little longer.
> 
> Again, thank you [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts), my relentless beta, for the quick work on this chapter.

Coming back to New York felt more exhausting than arriving in Germany had. Though this time round, Erik had managed to sleep on the plane. It hadn't been restful. He'd had dreams, half of which he couldn't remember, but they left him with a vague sense of loss. The other half were of Charles – and he was either angry at Erik or not speaking to him at all, just turning away. He shuddered as the image resurfaced and tried hard not to think about it, only to find his mind veering back to it in an unguarded moment.

 

All around him the people were in a rush to get home, or whatever their destination was. Erik grabbed his bag from the conveyor belt and headed for the exit. No one waited for him there. Nor did he have his phone out, like most people, talking to family, friends, lovers, telling them about the flight and safe arrival. His phone was still back at his apartment.

 

He took one of the waiting taxis back to his apartment, staring out at the streets and buildings. The contrast to Bonn was still sharp and clear to him. Bonn was like a raw wound filled with memories, a wound he could not close, while the concrete, steel and people of New York felt numbing to his senses, ready to suck him back in. Except...

Erik rubbed his hand over his face. He was still tired, that was all. He should just stop to brood over the whole situation. _'Just get home.'_

 

Home. That was a place, silent and empty, with stale smelling air. Erik closed the door behind himself and put the key on the dresser in the hallway. He avoided looking at the other key that dangled on his keychain, yet was acutely aware of it. For a moment he just stood there. He had liked his apartment – the silence, the absence of clutter, the simplicity of it. Before Charles.

 

Erik put his bag down at the door to the bathroom. His things needed to go into the washing machine right away, he didn't have many spare clothes. Not in his apartment anyway. But first –

 

In the living-room, the coffee-table was cluttered with the scattered printouts from the photo-shoot, just as he'd left it. Erik had nearly forgotten they were still there and he froze at the sight. For a long moment he stood there, not daring to venture closer.

“Don't act so stupid.” His own voice sounded odd, but it broke the spell. He rushed forward and grabbed his mobile that lay amidst it all. The power had run out, but thankfully the power cord was in his bedroom. He turned his back on the photos and headed there.

 

xxx

 

Charles looked at his watch and then had to look again. He had done that so often today, that the action had become almost automatic and he nearly missed actually reading the time. Or perhaps it was his mind's way of telling him, that Erik would call when he would call and there was nothing Charles could do about speeding up the process.

 

He could have gone to the airport, actually had considered it. Edie had known the approximate time Erik was to arrive, and a check on the flight schedule had provided him with the exact time the plane was expected.

 

But it would not have been a happy surprise. And he was sure Emma would skin him, should something like ' _Star Chef yells at lover at New York's JFK airport_ ' make the news. So he waited, all but patient. To pass the time he had finally forced himself to do something productive and started to write down the recipes for the new cook-book. Just the basics, without any fanciful writing or colourful names for the dishes. Except for one he had only created on Tuesday. He had simply dubbed it _Edie's cake_. The basic recipe for the shortcrust pastry was written quickly, then came the part about making the almond milk and finally he could get down to the really ingenious part. _Use half of the almond milk - add a spoonful of honey and then cook the pears in the mixture._ He thought for a moment, before he added in bracket: ( _Will work with apples too.) Put rest of the almond milk in pot, heat it till it's lukewarm only! , then add the poppy seeds, bring to boillllllllllll_

 

Charles' finger pressed down hard on the keyboard's L-key as the phone beside him started ringing. His heart was hammering in his chest. He forced himself to take a deep breath before he reached for the phone. _'Might just be Emma, might just be Edie, might just be Raven... fuck it's Erik!'_

 

The phone was vibrating and buzzing angrily in his hand, yet he hesitated. One more deep breath, then he took the call.

 

Charles had imagined what he wanted to say over and over again, now he couldn't get a word out.

 

Silence greeted him on the other end of the line, then there was a little gasp from Erik. Charles still picked up on it despite the sound of rushing blood in his ears. “Charles...”

 

Charles closed his eyes. If Erik were standing right in front of him now, he guessed he would not yell at him after all. _'I'm glad you're back. I missed you. Why Erik, why?'_ “Yes.”

 

“Charles, I am...”

 

_'Sorry? Back? An idiot?'_

 

But Erik didn't finish the sentence. “How are you Charles?”

 

Charles gritted his teeth, the anger in him flaring up suddenly, hot and searing. What was that question supposed to mean? “Well – how do you think? How do you think it made me feel, when you didn't respond to any of my messages or calls? You suddenly disappear and I have no clue what has happened to you! How did you think this would make me feel?”

 

“I... Charles... I know. I never... never meant to hurt you.”

 

“But you bloody well did! I was scared something had happened to you!”

 

“I messed up, I know. I really do. I wasn't thinking straight. But that's no excuse. I should have been thinking – about you. What I was doing to you. I'm not asking you to forgive me. Because – because you shouldn't. I thought about this – us. You don't deserve someone messing up your life this way. I'll never.. I'll always...” Erik's voice wavered.

 

“What?”

 

Erik didn't reply right away. When he did, he started all over again, his voice had softened. “I never thought someone so perfect like you could exist. I never thanked you properly... I was, I am... I'm too much of a mess.”

 

“That's no excuse!” Charles wasn't sure he was even grasping half of what Erik tried to say. What a mess indeed.

 

“I know. I can't give any. Just – I'm sorry I hurt you. It won't happen again.”

 

“That's all. You think I'll just – forget about the past week.”

 

“No. No, I don't. I hope you will be able to forget about the pain and distress I caused you. Maybe just keep some nice memories.”

 

“What?” Charles started to feel light-headed, the whole conversation seemed surreal.

 

“I know you can't – you shouldn't forgive me for this mess I created for you. I love you, that's why I think it's best we go our separate ways.”

 

_'He loves me.'_

 

“And again, messing it up. We should have broken it off before I went away, but I didn't realise then... I still thought somehow, hoped I could get it right, not realising I got it wrong from the start. You went through such pains to make it work between us, despite your busy schedule while I - I don't deserve this.”

 

 _'He loves me. He_ said _it.'_

 

“Erik...” Charles stood up, needing to, wanting to, he didn't know what. He moved about the room, pacing, then suddenly headed for the door to his apartment. “What are you saying?”

 

“I'm sorry Charles. But I think it is better if we end this right now, before I hurt you more.”

 

Charles had reached the door and stood helplessly in front of it. Erik was too far away to reach. He let out a frustrated groan, hitting the doorframe with his palm. “Don't do this Erik...”

 

But the line was already dead.

 

He let his hand sink down, staring in shock at his phone. This hadn't really just happened. “Erik...” Telling him he loved him and then breaking up with him.

+++

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last scene where Charles hits the doorframe and says 'Don't do this Erik...'. Very much inspired by xmfc when Erik puts on the helmet in the submarine.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles is not going to give up on Erik!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments! Sorry I didn't reply yet, but I will get back to them. Sorry my editing took a bit longer, but here is the next chapter. WARNING: It is not all fluffy bunnies yet, but things are getting better, despite the bleak outlook in th elast chapter.  
> Many thanks again to my wonderful beta [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) !
> 
> Chaptercount till the end is still a bit vague!

 

The tiles felt cool beneath Charles' skin. He was leaning his forehead against them, while hot water splattered against his back. He should turn it off and get out already, but he couldn't make himself move. Suddenly he hit the wall with his fist. The sudden pain was a mere shadow of what he felt inside. “Fuck you, Erik.”

 

_Saying you love me._

 

_Breaking up so you don't hurt me more._

 

_What a joke!_

 

Just to have something to distract himself with, he reached for the bottle of shower gel. Before he unstoppered it, he halted and stared at it. It was Erik's. Reluctantly he put it back, turned off the water and got out.

 

He wiped the steam from the mirror, only to feel betrayed by his own reflection. The face he saw looked earnest, a little pale, while in contrast his shoulders were red from the hot water. But it didn't show how he felt. Methodically, he brushed his teeth, gaze falling on the small items that belonged to Erik. They were neatly lined up beside his. He reached out and touched them all, as if somehow they could reassure him, that Erik wasn't really gone from his life.

 

Back in his bedroom he ended up staring into the wardrobe, the shirt he had picked out to wear for sleep forgotten in his hand. Erik's clothes were still here. Of course they were. 

 

He never said when he was going to fetch them. _He doesn't need to, he has a key._

 

_He still has the key._

 

_I never agreed to breaking up. Damn it, this isn't over yet!_

 

Charles needed to speak with Erik, though not on the phone. Face to face. As soon as possible. The idea struck to just go and barge in on Erik, right now. Yet he wouldn't even get into his apartment building if Erik didn't let him in. Tomorrow – he'd probably be at work again and then would head back to his place. He needed to catch him there. Best if he was right there when he came back, forcing him to talk to him, to listen - before he could close the door between them. He needed to make sure Erik couldn't shut him out. If he really loved him, he would hear him out. So he had to be there in the afternoon. Usually Erik tried to come off work earlier on Thursday, because Charles was free after the day's recording session. of the show. _'Fuck - the show.'_ Could he be on time, right after? What if Erik decided to head off from work early to collect his things from Charles' place, then head home before Charles could get there?

 

Charles stared on the phone at his bedside table. Reluctantly he picked it up. Emma would kill him – but it would kill him, if he didn't do this.

 

xxx

 

At work everything was as usual. OnlyMuñoz remarked on his return as he ran into him on his way to his office. “Everything all right with your mother?”

 

“What, why?” Erik was puzzled; where had that comment come from?

 

“Just 'cause you said family matters and the only family I ever hear you mention is your mother.”

 

Erik was surprised Muñozhad bothered to notice. They were colleagues, not really friends. “No, thank you, she is fine. Had matters back in Germany that needed sorting.”

 

Muñoz gave him a sceptical look and Erik thought he would pry, but then he smiled. “Well, glad you are back. Had to do your share of all the tedious work myself.”

 

He was joking, but Erik felt too numb to respond. He tried for an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry.”

 

“You won't be, not when you see what I left on your desk. Have fun with the structural engineering calculations for four thousand square feet of parking space. And then I'll see you for lunch, so we can both sigh and moan about how mundane projects like this will drive us crazy one day.” 

 

Erik groaned. Muñoz waved at him before he headed back into his office.

 

So the day was long and tedious. The usual daily grind really, though lacking that comforting thought he'd so gotten used to - getting off work and heading home to Charles. Still, he pulled out his phone and looked at the picture of Charles he had on there. He pressed his lips together as his gaze raked over Charles smiling mouth, the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. _'No more.'_ “No more!” Vehemently, he put the phone facedown on his desk. He had done the right thing. Though he had imagined that it would hurt a little less if he were to end it himself - all reasonable and understanding that Charles was angry at him and he, Erik, had messed up. He believed he could pull back with his dignity still intact, before Charles himself would end it. Erik was sure Charles wouldn't forgive him - he shouldn't.

 

Of course his mother had been of a different opinion when he had called her yesterday, after he had spoken to Charles. She had been so angry she had switched between German and English, making his head buzz. The woman who had threatened to wash his mouth with soap at hearing him swear when he was just eight (and had actually chased him around the house with a bar of soap in her hand), had used insults he wasn't even sure he had ever heard before. Dämlack was one she liked to repeat more than once. He only fended her off by telling her that he was exhausted and in no fit state to discuss anything and he would call her tomorrow. Actually, he might have hung up on her, since he didn't wait for her response.

 

He would call her – in the evening. Or he could get it over with and head to her place and let her rant at him directly. Or should he go to Charles, collect his things, return the key - then delete Charles' phone-number? Best to try and do it quick, at least within the week, or he might not be able to.

 

xxx

 

Erik left work later than he usually did on a Thursday, yet earlier than he would have liked. But he was exhausted, still feeling the effects of the jet-lag. That was also the reason - and only that - he told himself, why he headed in the wrong direction at first. Back to Charles' place. He stopped as he noticed, wavered, then headed into the closest deli he could spot, to get himself something for dinner before he headed home – to his place.

 

He felt strangely numb and ready to nod off on the elevator ride up to his floor. The thought of just falling right into bed was tempting. Exhaustion might grant him immediate sleep, without having to lay awake thinking, wondering and questioning himself. But if he gave in now, he would wake up in the middle of the night and he needed to be rested to catch up on his work. So he would try to shake the tiredness with a shower, food and then hope he would be awake enough to kill time with a film. Maybe there would even be something on TV to take his mind off – off everything really.

 

Lost in his own thoughts, he was halfway across the hallway before he realised there was someone sitting in front of his apartment-door. _'What the...'_ “Charles?” He gasped and stopped dead in his tracks. _'He shouldn't be here.'_

 

Charles looked directly at him. Erik realised he must have been watching him from the moment he'd stepped into the hallway. Now he got up. 

 

Slowly Erik walked closer, looking at Charles though not daring to meet his eyes. He noticed Charles' hands, previously balled into fists, starting to relax. Erik swallowed hard, though it did nothing to help the hot burning feeling spreading from his chest. Shouldn't Charles be getting ready to punch him? He was nearly level with him, when Charles bent down to pick up a water bottle and his jacket from the floor, brushing it out with his hand. How long had he been waiting for him? “Why are you waiting here?” It all came out a mess. His voice sounded rough and alien to his own ears, the tone almost accusing. Erik tensed. That was not how he meant it. 

 

Charles looked sharply at him, his lips trembled as he pressed them harder together. “We should get inside before we start talking.” He motioned to the door, but didn't move out of the way. Erik had to get up close to Charles to unlock it, heart racing.

 

As the door swung open Charles pushed past him. Erik stared after him with half a notion to just close the door and walk away – run. _'Don't make things worse.'_ He forced himself to step over the threshold and caught up to Charles in the living-room. His back was turned to Erik as he stood in front of the coffee-table that still had their photos scattered on top. Erik had still avoided putting them away, so he didn't have to look at them.

 

 _'Perhaps he just wants to collect his key.'_ Erik thought numbly and though Charles had every right - and Erik had contemplated returning the key mere hours before, he now felt like he had to hold on to it just a little longer. “Have you been waiting long? I would have come off work earlier, had I known...”

 

Charles finally turned towards him. As he spoke, he seemed calm and collected. “Really? I got the impression from your last phone-call that you wanted to avoid me.”

 

“I think it's for the best if our ways part, but that doesn't mean...” Erik stopped. He should get this over with quickly. “I –“ He had to stop and swallow to make sure he could get the words out. “I guess you want me to pick up my things and -” 

 

“Why!?” And with that Charles' calm snapped like a thin twig in a storm. “Why do you think you can make such a decision by yourself? You think it's alright to call me and just – present me with the facts, after I haven't heard from you in a bloody week?”

 

Erik shook his head. Did Charles really believe... “I was sure you wouldn't want to hear from me again after this. I didn't think when I left, just panicked. And as I realised how my disappearing must have seemed for you, I - I don't deserve another chance – least of all with you!”

 

“With - Why?”

 

“Because...” Why couldn't he find the right words? All he did say seemed to hurt Charles more. Charles should get away from him. “Why are you even still talking to me? 

 

“You're asking that like you WANT me to end our relationship.” Charles took a step forward. Erik felt hard pressed not to flinch back, though there was still a good distance between them. “Fuck you Erik, but you can't do that. You can't just disappear, and make me think something happened to you. You can't just come back, declare that you love me and in the same sentence tell me you can't be with me. You just can't do this to me! I deserve an explanation.”

 

Erik struggled. “You do. You deserve more than that, more than me!” 

 

Charles huffed angrily. “That is for me to decide.” His chest was heaving, hands balled into fists, his lips red from the way he was biting them.

 

Erik had thought Charles would be glad to be rid of him after what he had done. Not wait at his door. Not wanting to talk to him. Not wanting to... What? He was reading this wrong, Erik was sure he was. Charles would not want him back. He tried to grasp for something to say, but all he could think of was, that he wished he could have done everything differently. That he could have gotten it right this time.

 

“Erik – I love you. I'm mad as hell at you right now for what you did to me, but I won't let you off the hook just like that.”

 

Erik looked up, shaken. Charles couldn't mean it, not after the way he hurt him. “Don't...” But Charles didn't let him finish.

 

“You can't ask me not to say it, not anymore. Apparently I haven't told you enough. Otherwise you would have at least thought twice before you left without a note.” Charles voice cracked, the worry he had gone throughshowing pastthe anger. “I love you!”

 

Erik's eyes widened. Those words were the last thing he'd ever expected to hear again from Charles. “Charles... I thought, I didn't think. Again I didn't think what it would mean for others. I thought I could try, god I wanted to try...” It all came out a garbled mess. Erik turned away. Charles suddenly rushed forward, grabbed Erik's jacket and pushed him hard against a wall. Erik hardly registered the pain of the impact. All he could think was that Charles' eyes up close were an incredible shade of blue. Like water at a clear beach, perfect to drown in. But Charles' rough voice pulled him back. “So you messed up – but you told me you love me. Did you mean it?”

 

Erik crumbled, pulling against Charles' hold like a dead weight. Charles held him up a moment longer, then let him sink to the ground, without letting go. He knelt before Erik, searching his face. “Erik?” His voice was gentler, yet still demanding.

 

Erik looked up, searching Charles' face. _'Why does he still want to hear it, why does he bother?'_

 

When Erik didn't answer, Charles' expression slowly changed. The grip loosened and he drew back, looking disappointed and hurt. Erik felt like he could hardly breath. Charles was slipping away from him. Here he was, with a last chance. If only he could hold on to it. Get it right. Only once. Please. He reached out, fingers finding purchase on Charles' bare forearm. He tried to tighten his grip but his fingers wouldn't obey. Yet Charles stopped pulling back. “I do – I love you Charles. That's why – god I hurt everyone I love. I never thought I would really fall in love again. I tried not to. But then, there you were - and you actually want me in your life, you gave this – us a chance. You did everything right and all I could think was how I messed up and how I would mess up again.”

 

Charles moved his hand on top of Erik's and Erik was sure he would pry his fingers loose, disgusted, but instead the hand on his tightened. “Why did you leave?”

 

Erik closed his eyes. Charles deserved an explanation. “I saw the photos of us. And I realised how happy I looked. How happy I am. And how I really don't deserve it. Anya – my daughter never got a second chance. Why should I deserve one? Magda was right, I will always mess up 'cause I never can grasp what was really important.” Only when it was too late.

 

“Erik – you didn't cause your daughter to die. It's not your fault. I won't say you shouldn't have handled the situation better, but that's it. You made a mistake, you weren't there for your daughter, your wife, and now you think you deserve to be punished for that. But just 'cause you screwed up on one chance at happiness, doesn't mean you never ever deserve to be happy again – and it doesn't mean you are not allowed to make other people happy. Don't do this to yourself. And don't do this to me!”

 

Erik's vision was blurry as he looked up at Charles. “But – I hurt you.”

 

“Yes. You messed up. I'm still angry. But I want you in my life. So if you are willing to give us a chance, I can forgive you. If you can forgive yourself.”

 

Another chance. Charles would give him that? Erik swallowed hard. Could he – would he make things right this time? Slowly, Erik nodded. 

 

A small sigh escaped Charles' mouth, as if he had been holding his breath. “Good.” 

 

For a moment they just stayed like that. Erik felt dazed and also terribly exhausted.

 

“You look tired. You should go to bed. We can talk some more tomorrow.”There was a hint of tenderness back in Charles' voice. 

 

“Jetlag.” Erik pushed himself to his feet with Charles' help. But he didn't want to go to sleep now. He wanted Charles to - well he didn't know what. Make sure he was still there. “If I go to bed now I'll only be up again in the middle of the night.”

 

“Ok, then – why don't you take a shower and – have you eaten already? Because I'm starting to feel hungry.”

 

Erik shook his head. “How long have you been waiting out there?” The idea of Charles waiting patiently for him to return still felt a little dizzying.

 

“Since two this afternoon. I wasn't sure when you would come back.”

 

“But that's – four hours.” Then he remembered what day it was. “What about your show.” 

 

“Cancelled.” Charles looked uncomfortable at mentioning it.

 

“But - “

 

“Lets not talk about this now. I'll hear all about it next time I meet Emma.” Charles squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

Erik could only imagine Mrs. Frost’s reaction, but more importantly still. _'He cancelled work for a chance with me.'_ Erik wanted to pull Charles closer, bury his face in his shoulder, inhale his scent, just cling to him. But he didn't dare. It seemed too early after all that had happened to try and touch him as intimately as that. “I love you.” It was the best he could do.

 

Charles gaze softened. “You might have to tell me that more often after Emma has picked me apart for springing this on her so suddenly.”

 

“If there is anything I can do...”

 

“Careful, 'cause there might be – but not now. Let's talk about this later, tomorrow. Now - food.”

 

“I don't have anything here really – I just got some sandwiches from the deli.” They might not be enough for the two of them, since he hadn't been particularly hungry when he bought them.

 

“Let me worry about that. “ And with that Charles started rummaging in Erik's kitchen.

 

Erik left, not without turning back at the door to look at Charles, before he did as he was told. 

He felt better after the shower and found Charles was still here. He felt a bit light-headed and shaken yet also calm again. Charles had gotten hold of some rice and frozen vegetables that must have been left in the fridge and cooked up something surprisingly edible and tasty . 

 

They sat in silence at the coffee-table. Charles had taken a seat on the floor while Erik sat on the couch, his plate balanced on his knees. He had put the pictures of them aside, stacking them neatly.

 

It felt almost comfortable, still something was missing. Erik was aware they were still on shaky ground. “Have you ever been to Bonn?”

 

Charles looked up, surprise showing in his eyes for a moment, before he pondered the question. “No. I was at the Rhine, but not that far north.”

 

Erik looked down to chase a particular stubborn grain of rice across his plate, but then made himself stop stalling. “It's – nice. Magda, Anya and I, we didn't live in Bonn, but in a small village on the outskirts. Close enough so I could commute to work easily and we did visit often on the weekend - if I was home.” He remembered the stone on Anya's grave with the carnival scene. He swallowed. “Though I think Magda and Anya went too, when I wasn't there.” Finally he looked up to find Charles watching him.

 

“So the city holds a lot of memories. Did you visit the place you used to live at?”

 

Erik shook his head, his body tensing up. Charles reached out and put a hand on his knee. The touch lasted only a moment, but it was enough for now. “I couldn't face that. It was bad enough seeing all the places Anya loved to go - and remembering.”

 

“Are they good memories?”

 

“I – guess. But they make me feel like I failed her nonetheless.”

 

“Would you want to share them anyway?” Charles words were tentative, making Erik feel like he could say 'no'. 

 

Slowly Erik put his plate on the table, then slid down from the couch so he could sit beside Charles. Not close enough to touch, but he imagined he could feel the warmth radiating from his body all the same. “Alright...”

 

Erik started with the first thing that came to his mind, retracing his steps through Bonn from there, to tell Charles about his little girl. Not only of the memories that he found there, but other things that he would remember while talking. And at one point he started to recount a bit of the time when Anya had first been diagnosed with cancer. Charles mainly listened, only asking questions when the story had to be clarified.

 

Erik completely lost track of time, only realising how late it had become when his voice gave out. 

 

“You look completely worn out. I better let you get some rest now.” Charles finally got up, groaning and stretching out from sitting too long. 

 

Erik pushed himself to his feet as well. Charles reached out and helped him up. For a moment They just stood there. Erik held his breath, acutely aware of Charles' hands on his arms. Carefully he reached out, touching the warm skin of Charles' bare arms. Charles' grip tightened slightly. “Thank you for sharing that.”

 

“I'm glad you came. That you didn't give up – on us.”

 

“Yes.” Finally Charles let go and reluctantly Erik let him pull back. Clearly Charles did not intend to stay the night. It left Erik with mixed feelings. “Do you mind, if I come over tomorrow. If you have time.”

 

“I have to work late.”

 

Erik's heart sank a little. 

 

“But I don't mind if you come over.” Charles headed for the hallway and put on his jacket and shoes.

 

Erik nodded, following him and watching as he got ready to leave. Just as Charles reached for the doorknob, Erik felt a surge of panic rise up. 

 

“Wait.” He grabbed the spare key from a box standing on the dresser. He held it out for Charles.

 

Charles looked surprised.

 

“I know it's not like we spent any time here, but just in case, if you want it...”

 

Charles took the key from Erik's hand. For the first time that evening a small smile showed on his lips. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.” He pocketed the key, then headed out.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the break-up on Erik’s part and Charles refusing to accept it, the new start of their relationship is still a bit shaky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry that this update took so long! Hope you'll still enjoy this.  
> My thanks to the lovely [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) who did such a quick job on betaing again!

The high pitched sound of the alarm clock was loud and insistent. With a groan Erik rolled over and reached out to turn the annoying thing off, only to have his hand hit the wall. He flinched, opened his eyes and looked around blearily. The bed he was in was his own, not Charles'. For a moment he stared at the blank wall. The alarm was still shrilling and finally he twisted around to reach the other side of the bed and turned it off. With an exhausted sigh he sank back into his bed.

 

He knew exactly why he had imagined himself to be at Charles' place and in his bed. That dream he'd had. It felt like his mind was betraying him. But instead of doing the sensible thing by ignoring it, Erik closed his eyes, attempting to hold on to the images and snippets of conversation he could remember. He shouldn't! It would be painful in the end, but to feel Charles close, even if it was only in the pale memory of a dream, was too tempting.

 

Though Erik found the images were burned rather vividly into his mind, like they were true memories of Charles sitting at the door to Erik's apartment, waiting for him, yelling at him angrily and yet ready to forgive him. 

 

Erik sat up suddenly, his heartbeat racing. _'That wasn't a dream!'_

 

He scrambled out of his bed. The bedspread he'd been too tired to throw off yesterday got entangled with his legs and he nearly fell. For a moment he struggled, hopping on one leg to get the offending blanket off, then he ran straight for the living-room. He stared down at the couch and coffee-table. He was sure they had sat right there yesterday, and the photos of Charles and him were neatly stacked at one corner of the table. Still he needed some more tangible proof and he knew where to find it. In the hallway Erik pulled open the drawer of the dresser where he kept his spare key. He held his breath as he looked inside. The key was missing – because it hadn't been a dream, none of it, and he had given the key to Charles.

 

xxx

 

Erik skipped his morning-coffee. During his morning routine he'd already felt jittery enough, his body thrumming with a low-level tension. 

 

Just as Erik headed out of his apartment he stopped at the door and stared at the keys in his hand. Only yesterday he had thought about returning the one to Charles' place. Was he doing the right thing? Yesterday all he'd felt was relief that his relationship with Charles wasn't over. The fresh morning brought a sharp reality to the situation. His hand trembled slightly. If he felt doubt, this wouldn't work. 

 

As long as he thought Charles was angry with him, even hating him for disappearing without a word, breaking it off had seemed inevitable. Moments from yesterday flashed through his mind again. 

 

Charles had surprised him with showing up and wanting him back. Despite what Erik had done. He had been so angry – because he cared, Erik realised. He was willing to do a lot, forgive a lot to make their relationship work. He had also made it clear, that he could only reach out so far, but it was up to Erik to take that outstretched hand. 

 

His thumb rubbed over the sharp relief of Charles' key. Erik had felt obliged to tell Charles about his trip to Bonn and was surprised to find that it made the pain – not go away, but it blunted the edge of it. And he remembered Charles' small smile as he'd given him his own spare key. His fingers wrapped around the two keys and he shoved them into his jacket pocket. Charles was important. He would not throw this second chance away. For the first time, he didn't think guiltily of Anya and Magda.

 

xxx

 

Getting to work took Erik an hour longer than usual. Lost in thought on the underground, he'd missed his stop and it seemed a brilliant idea to avoid the rush of people and just head up and walk the one station. The area he ended up in lay in the opposite direction of his usual lunch-haunts, so it took him a little longer than expected to get his bearings. In the end the detour was well worth it though, because he stumbled upon a charming little bakery (he really was in dire need for coffee by then). On a whim bought breakfast for himself and Muñoz, and then spent about ten minutes contemplating if it was a good idea to buy something for tonight, for Charles. He might not like it, he might be able to make the same thing and it would taste better, he might be offended, it might not keep till tonight and Charles might not want to eat anything after he came home from work... He ended up not getting anything for Charles, but he decided he might take Charles out here for breakfast, if what he had bought tasted as good as it looked. Charles surely could not be offended by that.

 

Back at work, Erik delivered breakfast to a very surprised (but delighted) Muñoz and as he finally sat at his desk, realised that he still hadn't called back his mother. He was surprised she hadn't tried to get in contact with him yet, demanding answers and chastising him for his rude behaviour of simply hanging up on her. His incredulity only grew when she replied to his bungled explanation with a calm: “Oh I know all about that already.”

 

Erik opened his mouth, then closed it again, before he managed a somewhat coherent reply. “What do you mean, how do you know about Charles coming over yesterday?”

 

“Because I called him, silly. After that nonsense you went on about breaking up with Charles, I had to make sure he was alright.”

 

“You – called him? You have his number?” And what did she mean by having to make sure he was alright? 

 

“Of course I do. When you disappeared on him Charles came over. He was so worried and tried to find out what happened to you. So we exchanged numbers and I told him he could call me any time he needed to.” She made it sound like it was only to be expected and how could Erik not have figured it out already.

 

Erik tried to imagine how that visit had gone and failed. All he could manage was a confused: “Charles didn't tell me.”

 

“Well when should he have told you? The way you were behaving, you have to be glad he's talking to you again at all. I still think it was horrid to leave him without even a note. You made him believe something serious had happened to you. Can you imagine that?”

 

Erik shrugged helplessly. “I guess, I have to say thank you...” Now he could think of what him suddenly disappearing must have meant for Charles and it made him shudder. And he knew he had to thank his mother properly for being there for his boyfriend when he'd failed him. Though a mere apology was not enough to give to Charles.

 

“Well don't thank me, thank him. He is such a nice young man.”

 

Erik couldn't help but smile. “He is... “

 

“Then how could you just leave him and just take a trip to Germany without telling him where you went? I thought I taught you better manners.”

 

Erik cringed. “You have. I am an idiot – I thought I could – find answers.” But Anya was a piece of cold stone and Magda like a ghost, haunting him. Talking to Charles about how the trip had turned out felt like the only sensible thing he had managed to do in the past seven days. 

 

“Yes you were.” There was a short pause, then her voice softened. “Are you alright? Would you like to come over and talk?”

 

“I am OK I guess.” Because of Charles. “Perhaps I'll come over sometime this weekend or next week. I can't say yet.” 

 

“You are not planning to do something stupid again?” She sounded weary.

 

“No, that's not the reason. I have to see first what Charles' plans and schedule are for the next days. I have a lot to make up to him.”

 

“Of course.” All suspicion was gone from her voice. Apparently Charles was a valid excuse to her and his well being outranked everything else at the moment. “Well you tell him, the two of you are very welcome anytime you want to visit. And next time he comes over, _I_ will bake.” 

 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “You – so Charles has bribed you with cake?”

 

“Nonsense. He just needed someone to talk to.”

 

Slowly the words and their meaning sank in. “He visited more than once?”

 

“Of course. Have you been listening to what I've said so far?”

 

“I have. I'm sorry.” Erik was glad his mother liked Charles, but it was strange to come back after not even a week and find them so - close. He wondered what it was exactly they talked about. Had Charles ranted about him? And had his mother agreed with him? Maybe it was better for him not to know after all.

 

“So will you be staying at Charles' apartment again tonight?”

 

Erik felt himself blush, but he didn't hesitate to answer. “Yes.”

 

xxx

 

Despite the straight answer he had given his mother, Erik did hesitate when he left work. Charles wouldn't be home, so what was he going to do at his apartment? He might feel like an intruder. Erik contemplated going home and then heading over for Charles' place later. But what if Charles got off work earlier and Erik wasn't there yet? That quickly settled it for him. He had told him he'd be there, so he would.

 

As Erik opened the door to Charles' apartment and was greeted only by silence, he found his previous worry was for naught. It felt more like coming home than returning to his own place had. Erik took his time to walk through the rooms, finding nothing had changed. Even his belongings were right where he remembered them being the last time he was here. He had expected to find things moved. Maybe ready to be thrown out, or just put aside. But it was like Charles was sure he would return, and was ready to let him back into his life. Yet Erik wasn't so certain if that also included the bed - yet. So he stood in the bedroom, looking at the pale green sheets and pillows with a frown creasing his forehead. There was nothing he'd rather do this evening than crawl under the blanket and bury his head in the pillow. It would smell of Charles and when he woke up, it would be to Charles beside him.

 

Yet yesterday kissing had seemed too much - too soon.

 

Reluctantly he turned away and left the room. 

 

xxx

 

Charles stood in front of his apartment, looking down at the keys in his hand. It was past midnight and he was exhausted from work. All the more reason to just get in and not just stand in front of the door, but there was a question weighing heavily on his mind. Would Erik be there? His fingers rubbed over the key Erik had given him. It had been Erik who had asked to come over, he had offered, but if he wasn't here... If he had 'run' again, Charles wasn't sure if he could find the energy in himself to chase him down one more time.

 

As long as he didn't open the door, both possibilities existed. Like with that scientist's cat. So as long as he didn't look, Erik was there, even if he wasn't. Charles stifled a yawn. He wondered if that would actually make more sense if he were less tired. However, just standing here wouldn't change anything, and he might only drive himself insane with wondering. If he was going to be disappointed again, he might as well get it over with. 

 

Charles unlocked the door. His apartment was immersed in darkness. Nervously he fumbled for the light switch and relaxed as the sudden glare illuminated Erik's shoes and jacket in the hallway. A smile stole itself onto Charles' lips. He put his bag down, shrugged off his own jacket and shoes and as silently as possible headed into the bedroom. He didn't turn on the light, just left the door open so the light from the hallway would shine in. Puzzled he stopped in front of the bed. The clearly untouched bed. Where was Erik?

 

Charles found him in the living-room. In the combined light from the nocturnal city and from the hallway he could make out Erik curled up on the couch, a pillow from the bedroom stuffed under his head and a blanket drawn over himself. He didn't look like he had just fallen asleep here by accident but consciously went to bed here.

 

_'Why?'_

 

Puzzled, Charles stared at him, then sat down on the edge of the couch. He reached out just wanting to stroke over Erik's head and ended up burying his hand in Erik's hair. He took a deep breath. _'You're back.'_ Charles leant closer, tempted to do more but then he just spoke softly. “Erik? Come on Erik, wake up.”

 

A little jerk ran through Erik's body, then he opened his eyes a crack. “Charles?” His voice was a rough croak and he seemed hardly awake. “Is it morning?”

 

“No.” Charles shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Sleeping.” He looked up at Charles for a long moment, as if trying to make sense of why he had been woken up. Slowly he tried to push himself up. “Sorry, was I wrong? You said I could come over. You said you would be late, so I just went to sleep.”

 

“It's alright. I'm glad you are here.” Charles' words made Erik sink back again. “But why did you go to sleep on the couch?”

 

“I didn't want to intrude.”

 

Erik's words didn't make much sense to Charles. “You don't - I gave you the key to intrude.”

 

“I didn't mean to assume – yesterday - I just didn't want you having to kick me out of bed, if you didn't want me there – yet. I hope you will again, just wasn't sure about right now.”

 

Finally Charles understood the reason for Erik's odd choice. Yesterday Charles had been too tense to do more than briefly touch Erik, and told him he was still angry. Last night he had needed to be alone. Just to let the tension he had felt the past week drain from him. To give this – them some more time apart to sort through his feelings. And because he couldn't bear to have Erik close, only to find he had changed his mind again in the morning. He had needed for Erik to come to him.

 

Charles fingertips caressed over Erik's forehead. Erik closed his eyes, visibly relaxed at the touch and gave a little sigh. The unguarded reaction made Charles smile and he leant closer to let his lips brush against Erik's warm mouth.

 

Erik's eyes snapped open and he looked searchingly at him, though he didn't move. Charles returned the gaze, but wondered how much Erik could make out in the gloom. He moved so he could whisper against Erik's ear. “Come to bed.”

 

Erik's gaze flickered over Charles' face as if he was attempting to read his expression. Reluctantly Erik reached up to cup Charles' cheek with his hand. 

 

“If you don't, you leave me no other choice – I'll have to get onto the couch with you.”

 

Erik's fingers brushed against his lips. 

 

Charles sighed. Part of him just wanted to enjoy the feeling, but Erik made no other attempt to move. If he weren't tired he might have been inclined to draw this out a little longer, but he was exhausted. “Fine.” He just slumped forward, sprawling across Erik's chest. “We can discuss that in the morning, but all I want now is to sleep, preferably with you close.”

 

It took a moment, but then Charles felt Erik's hand coming to rest on his back. The light touch seemed hesitant at first, until finally the hand moved up to caress his neck. Charles made an encouraging sound.

 

“You smell of – cooking.”

 

“Just back from work, what do you expect? I didn't have a shower yet but went straight to searching for you. I hoped to find you in my bed.”

 

“Sorry.” 

 

“Don't be. I'm glad you are here at all.” He listens to Erik's heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest stops for a moment as Erik catches his breath.

 

“You thought I might not come?”

 

Charles hesitated. “I didn't dare be certain.”

 

Erik was still for a moment. “And now?”

 

“I'm certain you are here – now.” Charles wondered if his words would unravel what they had just mended. But perhaps being open about his hopes and fears would help and get Erik to say what worried him in turn, so they could work through it before things got bad. “Not sure about what comes next. I mean what will happen next week – next month.”

 

Erik's hand on Charles' shirt tightened. “Saying that it will be alright won't be enough.”

 

It wasn't a question, still Charles answered it. “No it won't.”

 

Erik didn't reply to that and Charles felt himself drift off. He was dimly aware that he should at least take off his clothes and get onto the couch properly, or he would wake up in an hour with his back complaining. But he didn't want to do anything that would disrupt Erik's hold on his shirt. It seemed like an unspoken promise.

 

“Charles? - Charles, have you fallen asleep?”

 

“Hmmm...”

 

The hand on his back was shaking him now, much to Charles' dismay. “Charles, wake up. You're still dressed and can't fall asleep like that.”

 

“What - “ The shaking proved too much and Charles sat up. He shook himself and rubbed his hand over his face. “All right. I'll be right back.” He rose but Erik sat up too.

 

“No.”

 

Charles looked down at Erik, starting to feel frustrated. Erik rose to his feet, pillow stuffed under one arm, with the other he reached for Charles' hand. “Let's go to bed.” Erik's voice sounded a bit shaky, but maybe it was just because he was tired. Charles squeezed his hand and pulled him along.

 

Erik got underneath the blankets while Charles headed for the bathroom. As he returned he found Erik trying hard not to fall asleep. He had pushed himself up on his arms, yet his eyes kept drifting shut and his head sank forward. “You didn't have to stay awake now.” The effort made Charles smile despite himself. He turned off the light and crawled onto his side of the bed. He felt Erik slump back into the pillows. “Had to.”

 

“Why?” Charles reached out, fingers running over Erik's bare arm. Whatever reluctance he had felt yesterday, at this moment he just wanted to feel Erik close. He put his arm atop Erik's chest, noting the light shiver that ran through Erik's body.

 

“Because I needed to tell you, I'm glad you decided to camp out on my doorstep yesterday, and didn't give up on me – us.”

 

Charles moved closer still. He leaned over and brushed his lips against Erik's. “No regrets?” He rested his head close to Erik's. Charles felt Erik place his hand on top of his arm, then slowly his fingers moved over Charles' skin.

 

“Enough to last me a lifetime – none for coming here tonight.”

 

The words didn't tell Charles anything about tomorrow, or the day after, but for now, he could be content. One step at a time. Erik had found his way back to him. They would take it from here.

+++  


tbc  



	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relationship is still a little touchy and especially Erik struggles with what is alright for them and what not.  
> Sex, fluff, the whole shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really, really sorry the last chapters come with such big breaks inbetween. I haven't had a proepr day for writing in the last months, so it got hard to find time for writing. Hope you still enjoy the fic nevertheless. Thank you to all who bookmarked, left kudos and wrote comments.  
> Still (or only) two more chapters to go!
> 
> I can't mention my wonderful beta [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) enough. I really wouldn't want to miss her help!

Erik woke slowly drifting between consciousness and weird but intense dreams, forgotten the instant he finally pulled free from sleep. He smiled as he gradually became aware that the heavy weight on top of his chest was Charles' arm, draped over him. Erik could feel the warm body pressed against his. Charles by his side, he in Charles' bed - this was real, he knew it, and it felt wonderful. He didn't really want to do anything but indulge in the moment.

 

Carefully Erik shifted and rolled to his side, so he could curl up closer to Charles. He could hear the soft, steady breaths coming from the other man, a clear sign that he hadn't disturbed his sleep. Erik opened his eyes a little and found he was close enough to kiss Charles' pale shoulder. His lips brushed against the bare skin, noticing how cool it felt. Concerned, Erik tried to move his arm to pull up the blanket some more, but the movement proved to be too much and made Charles stir. Erik froze. He didn't want to disturb the peaceful moment, he wanted time to look and – yes, touch Charles - a little, and just wait till he would open his eyes and look at him and smile. Erik wanted to see Charles smile because he woke up beside him. Thankfully he didn't yet, instead he made an adorable small grunting noise and pulled back his arm.

 

Erik frowned. He wanted that arm back! Or at least another part of Charles touching him. If he could nudge his leg between Charles', without waking him... But he met resistance. Charles' hand got in the way and it seemed like he wanted to push Erik back until his hand came to rest on Erik's thigh, fingers barely brushing the shorts Erik had worn to bed. This quickly drew Erik's attention. Charles hand felt warm and heavy, if only Charles would move it up a little further, sliding under Erik's shorts and fingertips brushing along the length of Erik's cock. Erik closed his eyes, imagining Charles suddenly very awake, his mouth brushing against Erik's ear as he murmured: 'Trying to get my attention? Well you have it now. _Think you're up for it?'_

 

But Charles' voice was only what he imagined it to be. Uncertainly, Erik opened his eyes again. The real Charles might not be so eager.

Only four days ago he had broken up with Charles. Only three days ago Charles had offered him a second chance. It was day two of them trying to mend their relationship and all he could think about was how he wanted Charles to jerk him off.

Doubt crept in and Erik started to feel guilty. He was hardly doing anything, yet he couldn't help wondering if Charles wouldn't object if he were awake. If he would tell him it was still too early to have sex.

 

He tried to pull his leg back, making Charles' fingers slide over his thigh. Erik felt them flex, as if in his sleep Charles tried to hold on to him and the touch sent a shiver through his body. Erik made himself hold still again and closed his eyes in frustration. He tried hard to think of something else, though there didn't seem to be anything but Charles and his touch.

 

He would not wake Charles and ask him if they were good for sex yet, or if Charles was still mad at him – despite demanding that he get into his bed last night. Oh how he remembered those whispered words from last night. _'Come to bed.'_ The mere memory aroused him. Clearly his body didn't give a damn about his reluctance.

Staying still didn't help. He could _feel_ Charles. His chest rising and falling with every breath, warmth radiating from his body, pressing against Erik's skin – and Erik realised that he must have taken off the shirt he had worn to sleep some time during the night.

 

Charles fingers were still on Erik's thigh, warm against his skin and it felt like they were getting warmer with every second. Erik's heart was hammering in his chest and no matter how he tried to distract himself, his focus was veering back to Charles' hand. How it would feel to have it wrapped around his cock right now, thumb circling the top of Erik's cock.

 

Erik released a shaky breath. “Fuck...” He couldn't stay like this. Slowly he sat up. The blanket slid down his body and he peeled it back from his lap, revealing Charles' hand, pale, freckled and with a healed yet still red scar... Erik felt the urge to trace it with his fingers, or his tongue... Erik hung his head. He needed to get away, or else – else he might wake Charles and tell him that he had been naughty and needed Charles to spank him. His mind veered right off to the night in Charles' restaurant kitchen.

 

Erik pressed his lips together to stifle a moan – frustrated with himself, his body's reaction (and part of it was probably his body being frustrated with him too.)

 

This was more serious – should be more serious to him. He should speculate how to make up for last week, to work on mending their relationship and not sex.

 

Carefully he moved his leg away. Charles' hand slipped from were it lay and came to rest on the bed. Quickly Erik got out of bed. He only stopped to pull the blanket back over Charles then he headed for the bathroom.

 

xxx

 

 

The water had steamed up the whole bathroom, surrounding Erik with a hazy warmth. His back was pressed against the wet tiles, bracing himself while his hand moved relentlessly, stroking his erection made slick with water and Charles' soap.

 

He imagined Charles pushing him back against the tiles, claiming his mouth with a demanding kiss while his fingers wrapped around his already hard cock, stroking him...' _Tell me what you want!'_

In between harsh breaths words tumbled from his lips. “This, Charles, please... Oh god, Charles, right... just like...” Then all was lost in moans and he came, his body shaking from the orgasm while water ran down his body and carried all evidence away. It took Erik a few more moments to catch his breath before he slowly straightened. He turned off the shower, still feeling a little dizzy and pushed back the steamed up heavy glass-door.

 

He was just reaching for the towel but froze. At the door to the bathroom stood Charles, leaning against the doorframe. Erik felt heat creep up his face, but was sure he looked flushed anyway from the sex and heat. Still he felt caught, sure that Charles had overheard him... ' _How long has he been standing there? Long enough that he could have joined me – if he'd had wanted to?'_ Then he noticed the way Charles' lips curled up in a smug smile and how with half-lidded eyes, his gaze travelled up and down Erik's body. Charles licked his lips. “I didn't want to intrude, you seemed so very – intent on your shower. Though I am a little jealous you didn't invite me to join you.”

 

“Charles...” Erik finally reached for the towel and started rubbing himself dry, trying to be efficient about it and nothing else. He didn't look at Charles as he answered. “I thought, we've only made up, that is - you've only just forgiven me and this might be too forward.” He finally looked up. “I didn't want to get this wrong.”

 

Charles expression softened, though his voice still sounded slightly husky. “Don't over-think and try too hard to get it right.”

 

Erik shrugged, then put the towel back. What did Charles mean by that? He _wanted_ to get things right between them. Still naked he headed back to the bedroom, but Charles' hand on Erik's hip stopped him. “Just to do what feels right - If I'd have the day off I'd know what to do with you. I might tie you up, since you like to run away from me, and make sure you don't leave the bedroom for the whole day.” The words sent a shiver down Erik's spine and he looked down noting Charles' arousal.

 

“And if you'd say that's not what you want right now, that's fine too. Just don't let your worries make you avoid me.”

 

Erik's gaze is drawn up to Charles' face again. He looks so much at ease, so self-assured that Erik envies him for a moment. Then Charles licks his lips, a little gesture but it betrays the tension. Erik looks closer. Maybe Charles was just as worried? Erik reached out, hesitated for a moment, before his fingers brushed against Charles' throat then went on to ghost down, tracing along the hem of Charles' shirt. His gaze followed his fingers, flickering up only shortly to look at Charles' expression. Charles had his eyes half-closed and his parted lips looked wet.

 

Erik felt more bold, ran one hand down Charles' body, wishing the shirt wasn't in the way. He sank down to his knees while he pushed up the shirt, baring Charles' belly. He leant closer, resting his cheek against it for a moment before he started to spread kisses on the soft skin. Charles gasped and grabbed his hair suddenly and it made Erik tighten his own hand on Charles' shirt.

 

“We can move back to the bedroom – more comfortable there.”

 

But Erik didn't want to stop now. No distractions, just Charles the only comfort and warmth while he knelt on the cool hard tiles. Erik rubbed the fabric of the shorts against Charles' cock until he felt it hard and erect. The change was minimal, the way Charles sagged down against the wall, giving himself over to the feeling.

 

He let go of Charles' shirt, using both hands to slowly peel down Charles' shorts. The shirt slid down, brushing against Charles' erect cock, half obscuring it. Erik pushed it up again, spreading teasing kisses on Charles' hips, working his way closer. Charles moaned, shifted and Erik changed his grip to make him stay still. The shirt fell down again like a curtain on stage, almost teasingly. Erik chuckled and blew against it to make the fabric move.

 

“God, fuck, don't – no more teasing. Just – touch me already!” Charles groaned.

 

Erik looked up. Charles was biting and sucking at his lower lip and his chest was rising and falling. “Like this?” Erik leant closer and pressed his mouth against the top of Charles' cock, covered by the shirt. The cotton felt weird against his tongue but the way Charles tried to squirm and push forward, made up for that. “No, fuck...” Suddenly Charles pulled the shirt over his head and threw it in a corner. “Next time I will _take_ the time to tie you up, you tease.”

 

Erik laughed until Charles gripped his hair and yanked him closer. He relished in Charles' hold on him and ran his tongue along the underside of Charles' cock. Charles hissed softly, his grip on Erik's hair tightened for a moment before he loosened his fingers. Erik stopped and looked up. “Don't let go of me.”

 

Charles looked at him, his lust hazed eyes showing something else too. His fingers caressed over Erik's hair, then ran down his cheek and along Erik's exposed throat. The touch was tender at first, then travelled up to Erik's mouth. He pushed his thumb against Erik's lips until they parted. “I won't.”

 

Erik wanted to nod but Charles had a gentle yet firm grip on Erik's head as he pushed his cock against Erik's lips.

 

Erik moaned and opened his mouth wide. He let Charles take control, sliding his cock in and out, fucking his mouth, while he tried to relax his throat. He could feel Charles' pulse hammering madly under his hands, hear the small moans he made. Erik's hands cupped Charles' ass, squeezing gently, edging him on to go faster, deeper. “God, yes, Erik, so good!”

 

Charles came. Erik swallowed but Charles drew back and Erik ended up with cum on his cheek and lips, dripping down his chin. But he didn't care. This – he had needed this, getting Charles undone. He looked up at Charles, whose head had slumped forward. Erik moved back to give Charles some space, but as soon as he let go, Charles sank forward, reaching for Erik's shoulders to brace himself. Suddenly Erik found himself unbalanced, toppling back with Charles straddling his lap. His head hit the tiles with a loud thump.

 

“Sorry, Erik, you alright?” Charles half lying on top of him, half kneeling, Charles tried to lift Erik's head.

 

“Yes, okay... That sounded worse...” But he couldn't finish the sentence for Charles was greedily kissing him, and if he hadn't had his hands cupping Erik's head, Erik might have hit his head again. Charles was sucking and biting at his lips, making them feel hot and sensitive, before he plundered his mouth with his tongue making Erik dizzy.

 

It didn't matter that they were lying on the floor of the bathroom, that the tiles were cold and hard, that his knees felt sore from kneeling. This was perfect. He wanted that kiss to never stop.

 

xxx

 

When Charles came home late, he had hoped to find Erik in his bed. Instead there was light coming from the direction of the living room. At least it meant Erik hadn't gone to sleep on the couch intentionally this time. He didn't think he would want to sleep on his own – not after this morning. Though maybe he did enjoy getting dragged into bed by Charles.

 

But Erik was indeed awake and sat on the ground, back against the couch, photos scattered around him. Charles stopped at the door and took in the scene, a smile curling his lips. Erik looked perfectly at home. “I was wondering if I would have to drag you from the couch into my bed again, though I didn't think I'd find you awake.” Charles came closer and sat down right behind Erik, legs on either side of him. “What are you doing?”

 

Erik leant sideways, so his shoulder would bump against Charles legs. “Sorting through these. I got them from my apartment – nothing much else to do today. Since you said I'd get a say which ones would be used, I'd thought I'd try to narrow down the choices.” He pointed at a small heap of photos – all from their photo-shoot together. “I tried not to be too picky, but I'd rather not have those shown to the public.”

 

Charles bent down, body pressing against Erik's to pick them up, but then stopped halfway, as he realised what Erik had said. He had gone back to his apartment. Last time he went, he hadn't come back and Charles had to admit, he had been a little worried if the place wouldn't trigger Erik's feelings of guilt again. He gave him a quick peck on the cheek, that left Erik with a confused raised eyebrow, though he seemed to dismiss it quickly. Charles concentrated on the pictures. ' _He has come back after all. No need to worry.'_

 

The top one Charles would have unselected as well. It showed Erik chopping tomatoes and he was looking directly into the camera with a scowl that made him look like he was considering murder. Emma had surely left that one in because she found it amusing. The next one though... “What is wrong with that one?” Frowning he tried to find the fault Erik had obviously seen in the picture. Granted you didn't see much in the way of what they were cooking, except a bowl of cream in front of Charles, but Erik was leaning close, fingers grasping at Charles sleeve. He was grinning and Charles remembered having dipped his finger in the cream, teasing Erik with it only to lick it off himself. It did strike Charles how relaxed and at ease Erik looked in this. Perfectly happy. Azazel really had done great with capturing that moment. “I like this one, a lot.”

 

Erik put his hand on Charles' arm and pulled it down to get a better look at the photo, making a little sound of recognition as he saw it. “Actually – that's why I put it aside. I want to keep that private.”

 

Charles put his cheek against Erik's head, contemplating the picture. “Not sure if Emma will agree to that.” And he found he didn't want to exactly hide the picture either. He wouldn't even mind for other people to see, though if Erik wanted to keep it private, Charles knew exactly where to put it.

 

Erik twisted round, dislodging Charles from his comfortable resting place. “But...“ Erik stopped and started cursing softly, though Charles was a bit distracted by the way Erik knelt between his legs and Erik's warm hands on his thighs. “She's angry at me?” Erik looked earnestly up at him.

 

“To put it mildly.”

 

“But this – we are ...” Erik swallowed. “I love you.”

 

Erik had said it before, but the words still sent a shiver down Charles’ spine and his heart picked up its pace. “I know. But she is mad for me cancelling appointments on short notice because... 'cause you are more important to me.”

 

Erik suddenly surged up to kiss him.

 

It made Charles sure he had made the right decision.

 

Erik's lips still lingered against his as he spoke. “What if I avoid Mrs. Frost for some weeks, or months? I don’t have to interact with your manager, right?”

 

“You don’t have to. But it would be terribly rude if you pick me up from the recording studio tomorrow and ignore her.”

 

“What...?” The confused look on Erik's face made Charles kiss Erik again.

 

“What are you recording on Sunday? I thought it was regular work that would keep you busy all day.”

 

“Since I couldn’t make it on Thursday we had to reschedule the recording. So the good news is, this will only take until noon. I have the afternoon off and wanted to get out of the city with you. Thus you picking me up.” And it wouldn't matter, if Emma wanted to tear Erik off a strip, she would find an opportunity – if need be, by gracing them with a surprise visit.

 

Erik leant forward, his hands sliding up Charles' thighs. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“Just a little picnic. I know a secluded place up in Westchester.” Charles put the photo aside, then slid his hands up Erik's arm until he touched Erik's neck. As his fingers gently dug into the tight muscles there Erik's eyes drifted shut. “Okay. Just tell me when you want me to pick you up. And if there is something I should bring.”

 

“I thought we could decide on that in the morning. Be there at 12.45 – and be prepared for Emma wanting to talk to you.”

 

Erik slumped forward with a groan. Charles buried his fingers in Erik's hair.

 

“Why do I feel that no matter what I do or say now, she will hate me?”

 

“Huh... I don't know. But I don't think hate is the right word.” Distractedly Charles let his fingers slip down Erik's neck, under his t-shirt.

 

“Very reassuring.”

 

“I know you can convince her.”

 

Slowly Erik looked up.”I would rather convince you.”

 

“Convince me of what.?”

 

The wicked smile on Erik's lips made it very clear what he meant.

 

xxx

 

Erik had contemplated being late. Then he could just grab Charles and be out of the studio and away from Mrs. Frost in the blink of an eye.

 

He had also contemplated being early . Maybe he could sneak in, hide out of the way and then sneak out with Charles.

 

He had also come up with varied excuses why he had to wait in the car for Charles.

 

But the thought that Charles might be disappointed made him discard those ideas again quickly. He would not let Charles' manager dictate his life. Even if Charles' private life influenced his work, she had no right making it her business. It was Charles' decision whom he wanted to be with and she had no say in that.

 

He felt confident, as he walked into the building, showing the security guard his driving license for ID and being waved on quickly. Charles' dressing room was easy to find. Erik walked down the brightly lit, empty corridor. The door to Charles' dressing room suddenly opened, but Erik's smile froze as Mrs. Frost stepped out. His first instinct was to turn around and – but no. Erik pressed his lips firmly together and strode forward. “Mrs. Frost.” He greeted her – most civilly – as he found.

 

One perfectly trimmed eyebrow was raised as she turned towards Erik. The look she gave him was rather – frosty. “Erik - What a surprise.”

 

“Charles asked me to pick him up.” Had Charles really not told her about him coming over? He couldn't quite imagine that.

 

“I know. But it is a surprise that you actually showed up, is it not?” A small part of Erik was surprised at how Mrs. Frost managed to sound intimidating without raising her voice, or sounding actually angry. There was just this cynical edge to her voice.

 

Erik felt his resolve waver; but the only person he owed an explanation to had gotten one already – and had chosen to forgive him. “That's something you would have to ask Charles.”

 

“He seemed surprisingly confident that you would come. He asked me to tell you he will be a bit longer still. He has to appease his fans, for not being able to make it to the recording on Thursday and cancelling on such short notice. There were a lot of people who came and who had to be sent home disappointed.” Her smile was brittle as glass. “Pity he didn't get your help right now – though of course it would have helped a lot more, if you hadn't disappeared all of a sudden. You could at least have had the decency to break up with him and spare him the suspense. ”

 

“I did not do it on purpose and I didn't want to break up with him!” The sentence came out stilted and he cursed himself for saying anything at all. “Charles is willing to give me another chance, and that's that!” He finished more firmly.

 

Mrs. Frost's gaze was judging. “You think you deserve a second chance?”

 

Erik felt every hair on his body rise. “It only matters that Charles thinks I do.” He just wanted out of here, but he would be damned before he would admit to having been beaten by Mrs. Frost.

 

“So you have convinced Charles, but not me. I wanted to like you. You seemed to be good for Charles. Not someone who wanted in on the fame, flexible and understanding enough and thus able to cope with Charles' work-schedule. Not like some of the people his sister has tried to hook him up with in the past. But clearly I have been mistaken.”

 

“Why don't you trust Charles' judgement?” Erik bit out.

 

“Because he is clearly biased when it comes to you. He should have let you go after all the drama and heartbreak you caused, NOT go running after you.”

 

Erik's whole body vibrated with tension. He couldn't help the image of being tied to a rack, strung taut with Mrs. Frost twisting the ratchet bit by bit. “Yes he should have. I thought he wouldn't want to talk to me again. But he did, and I'm grateful he didn't give up on me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just wait in his dressing room and try not to get in the way of his work.” He pushed past her, half expecting her to stop him. But she didn't. It was hard, but Erik did not turn around to watch her reaction. Even as he heard the door to the dressing room being shut he didn't look. Only the sudden silence told him that he must be alone. He let out a sigh yet it still took a minute before his body started to relax. He rubbed his neck and looked around, spotting Charles' bag in one corner, right beside the couch. Erik went over and sat down there. The couch was way too soft, making him sink in. He briefly wondered if he would be able to get up from it.

 

Charles' jacket was slung over the end of the couch and Erik pulled it closer, hugging it to himself. Would he have to fight Charles' manager all the time now? He was certain Charles was sure about them, yet if Mrs. Frost kept finding faults and pointing them out to Charles, couldn't that nonetheless damage their relationship?

 

The moment Charles opened the door and took a step in Erik was on his feet.

 

He pushed the door shut with a foot, pressing Charles against it with his body, kissing him. As they parted Charles gave a breathless chuckle, pressing his forehead against Erik's. “Not that I'm complaining, glad to see you too, but is it only the cooking uniform or something else that prompted that greeting?” Charles wrapped his arms around Erik's waist, pulling him just a little closer still, till Erik nearly lost his balance and had to lean against Charles.

 

“Charles... “ Actually he hadn’t noticed the uniform until now.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I just need you to know – I won't run again.” Erik buried his face in Charles' shoulder.

 

Charles used one of his hands to caress through Erik's hair. He didn't say anything, but the touch was reassuring enough. “Did Emma say something?”

 

Erik took a deep breath. “Yes. That's not why. I don't care what she thinks or says about me, but I want you to know. I want you to be certain.”

 

“Erik I don't know what she said to you, but she pretty much kept her thoughts about us to herself since you came back.”

 

Erik lifted his head, looking at Charles in disbelief. Was he talking about the same woman?

 

“All right, she gave me a look now and then... like just now.”

 

Erik wasn't sure if he should feel reassured. “Let's get out of here.” He found his balance again and straightened.

 

“Sure - “Charles smirked. “I just have to get changed.”

 

Erik stepped back, then grinned as he took in Charles in his white uniform. “Need any help?”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles visit Erik's mother. There is baking, flirting, teasing and generally a lot of fluffyness. (So all in all a feel-good-chapter I hope.) Also a little flashback to Erik and Charles visiting Westchester and Charles' childhood home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the role of my beta-muse again the wonderful [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) .

“I thought you invited us over for coffee and cake, not to make us slave in your kitchen.” Erik gave his mother a peck on the cheek and got his own pinched as a reward.

 

“Now don't be cheeky. Zimtschnecken have to be served hot. So go and set the table while Charles and I finish them.”

 

Erik felt a little embarrassed that his mother would just put his boyfriend to work. “No, it's alright. I'll help and set the table, you can't ask Charles...” 

 

But Charles was already rolling up his sleeves and brushed past him. “It's alright. I'll gladly be Edie's assistant. I'm sure I can still learn something from her.” He winked.

 

Edie put a hand on Charles elbow. “ Don't be silly Charles, these are so easy to make, I'm sure there isn't anything about making them that you don't already know. But please don't let that stop you from flattering me.” Charles and Edie laughed.

 

So Erik slinked away from the kitchen, amused by how easily his mother ignored his protests and slightly confused about Charles and Edie's easy banter. He already knew that his mother and Charles were getting along splendidly, yet it was another thing to witness them together – and hear them tease each other. He turned at the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Despite her words, Edie was clearly trying to show Charles what he was supposed to do – and how. Though he was sure this was not the first time Charles held a rolling pin in his hands, Charles looked neither annoyed nor bored by Edie's explanations but rather like he enjoyed the attention. Rather unlike Erik, who quickly felt exhausted when his mother tried to lecture him on something he already knew.

But unlike Erik, Charles probably was never given such attention...

 

\---

At first Erik had been impressed by the huge estate Charles called his childhood home. He tried to play it cool but then just gave up. “This...” Erik sucked in a breath and allowed himself to gape.

 

Charles shrugged. “I know it looks – impressive. But believe me, it is neither glamorous nor welcoming.”

 

Erik hadn't understood yet. “But this looks like a great place to grow up in. I remember playing with a lego castle, this is like the real thing.” Erik stared up at the high walls, large windows... it even had turrets on top. To think, the things one could get up to here as a child. When Charles had mentioned he wanted to show Erik where he grew up, he had not expected Charles' childhood home to look like something straight out of a Jane Austen movie. 

 

“Looks like it, maybe...” 

 

Despite still being distracted by the building, just imagining the possibilities of playing on the rooftop, he turned his head to look at Charles. Just for a moment there was a blank expression crossing Charles' face. All the fire and enthusiasm Erik had always seen Charles show was suddenly gone. Instinctively he reached out for Charles' hand. Charles squeezed it in response and finally smiled at him. Erik felt strangely relieved to see the familiar spark back in Charles' eyes.

 

\----

Still he hadn't fully understood what Charles had meant - yet. Erik didn't have to wait long though, to get a better grasp of what Charles' childhood might have been like.

 

Feeling strangely self-conscious Erik had followed through a side entrance. Despite Charles clearly knowing where they were going, clearly belonging here, it still felt like they were breaking in. Hesitantly Erik looked around as they made their way through a long corridor. There were doors leading off on both sides and he caught a glimpse of a huge kitchen. He spotted some modern appliances next to old-fashioned wooden cabinets and would have loved to take a closer look, asking Charles if this was the place where his passion for cooking had started. But Charles was pressing on in a way that made Erik feel like he wanted to spend as little time here as possible. He had told him there was just something he needed to fetch before they would have that picnic.

 

They came up a short flight of stairs to what looked like an entrance hall. And that's when they met _her,_ Mrs. Xavier. Erik refused to think of her as Charles' mother.

 

She stopped on her way up the stairs, pale blonde hair draped artfully in artificial waves and curls framing her face, wearing a Chanel suit. Even from the few times Charles mentioned his mother, never in a positive way, Erik didn't expect the cool greeting she gave her son. She didn't even show surprise, just looked slightly taken aback. “Charles? What are you doing here?”

 

Charles smiled, but it looked just as artificial as Mrs. Xavier's make-up covered face. “Hello mother. Don't worry, I won't take long, I'm just here to fetch something.”

 

She looked towards the big entrance door. “I didn't hear you come in.”

 

“Oh we used the servants' entrance.”

 

The look of disdain that crossed her face made Erik's skin crawl.

 

“How fitting.” She seemed done with Charles and started walking up, taking two steps before she stopped again and turned towards them once more. This time her eyes fixed on Erik, observing him with cool calculation. He realised that her eyes were as blue as Charles' and yet seemed completely unlike his. As if hers were without life. “Who's that?”

 

Charles turned his head to look at Erik, then moved up to him and put his arm around Erik's waist, the gesture unmistakable. “My boyfriend.” 

 

If Erik had merely thought he disliked the woman on first sight, the way Mrs. Xavier drew up her shoulders and regarded Erik like he was something that had crawled out from the gutter, made him outright hate her. How Charles had managed to grow up into such a decent (perfect) human being was beyond him. Instinctively he reached out and touched Charles' shoulder.

 

Without another word Mrs. Xavier turned away and walked up the rest of the stairs, disappearing above them.

 

Erik was still staring after her, when Charles tugged at his arm. “Come on, I want to get out of here quick – though that didn't go too bad.”

 

Erik gaped. “How was that not bad?”

 

“She left without insulting us.” Charles gave a little shrug. “Really, I heard a lot from her about my choice of work, my sexual orientation...everything really.”

 

On an impulse Erik pulled Charles closer and kissed him.

 

Charles fingers lightly caressed over Erik's neck and he smiled at him. “I'm alright. I didn't bring you here so you would have to feel sorry for me or anything. I have come to think, if it weren't for her, I might have tried harder to follow in my father's footsteps and gone to university, became a scientist. I might not have felt the need to spite her and learn to do what we had servants for, namely cooking and I never would have discovered how much I love that work and I might never have met you.” Charles cupped Erik's face with his hand and placed another warm kiss on his lips.

 

“Okay... but what are we here for then? If it isn't to thank your mother for giving me the opportunity to see you peel onions so expertly on TV, so that all I could think of was you peeling me out of my clothes the same way. “

 

Charles grinned. “I can just imagine the look on her face. It might be amusing – for a moment. But I have something a lot better planned. Just let me fetch the key.”

 

“Key to what?”

 

“The boathouse.”

 

And so Erik had learned that the estate came not only with a huge stretch of land, but its own lake as well. And a boathouse with a rowing-boat. One they steered out into the lake for a picnic on the waves. It almost felt like being somewhere on the ocean. At least as long as Erik and Charles stayed stretched out on the boat-floor, where they had made themselves comfortable with the help of pillows and blankets, filched from a salon (yes, Charles had indeed called it a salon) at the estate. They had been staring up at the blue sky, Erik had a leg thrown over Charles' own while Charles had his arm under Erik's neck. It didn't take Erik long to find something much more interesting to observe than the sky though, using Charles' shoulder as a pillow, as he turned his gaze towards him.

 

Charles had his other arm thrown over his face, shading his eyes from the sun. Though he might still get more freckles on his nose, and definitely on his arm. Erik decided he would have to closely investigate later. 

 

“Did you come here often?”

 

“Whenever the weather was nice and I wanted to get out, yes.”Charles pulled his arm away from his face and turned to meet Erik's gaze. “I hope you don't mind that I dragged you out here.”

 

“Not at all. It's a bit like being at sea...”

 

“Shipwrecked in a small boat?”

 

Erik chuckled. “Oh I would love to be shipwrecked with you.” He traced a finger over Charles' nose. “And count your freckles every day to see if they grow more in the sun.”

 

“As enticing as this sounds, I fear my face would be burnt in a day and there would be no more freckles to be seen. But apart from the sunburn, the idea sounds lovely. Though that's not what I meant. But I dragged you out here, showing you this place, the estate... only it's - you have shared a lot about yourself with me and I felt I was holding out on you a bit with not mentioning my – heritage.”

 

“You turned out rather well, despite it ...” Erik had meant it teasingly but then he sobered. That maybe was not the – right thing to say. “I'm sorry, it's just. It seems like you didn't let it define you.”

 

“Oh I don't know. I mean I like to think I have found a place for myself in this world, one that is my own, but still...I don't want to think about what happens once I truly inherit the place.”

 

“You what?” Erik hadn't thought about that. But of course. “You mean, this – will be yours one day?”

 

“Except if my mother finds a way to disinherit me.”

 

Erik gaped, then he grinned. “So you'll be like a prince of cooks with your own estate.” He started chuckling at the idea. 

 

“Oh shut up.”

 

As Erik wouldn't, Charles rolled on top of him and kissed him.

\-----

 

“Now I get it, those are buns!” Charles' exclamation brought Erik back from his memories.

 

“Oh, didn't I say so?” Erik's mother sounded surprised.

 

“No you called them something in German.”

 

“Sorry my dear, I happen to slip up every so often, especially with things I most of the time use the German word for.”

 

“What are they called again in German?”

 

“Zimtschnecken. Zimt means cinnamon, and... well this is rather funny, because Schnecken means snails. I'm not sure if it was the first time I made them, but I remember, when Erik was little...”

 

Erik groaned inwardly. This would be something embarrassing, he knew it. Why did his mother only tell embarrassing stories about him?

 

“...I told him we would have Zimtschnecken for dinner. About 20 minutes later he came in from the garden, all muddy, presenting me with his sand-bucket filled with snails. He had the most adorable frown on his face, saying they looked slimy and he wouldn't like to eat them, but if I cooked them he was sure I would make them taste okay.” 

 

Erik stepped up to the kitchen doorway. “How was I to know you didn't mean to cook real snails?” He got distracted in his protest by the enraptured smile on Charles' face. He seemed to enjoy the story. Then Charles caught him looking and the smile turned into a wicked grin. “So little Erik didn't enjoy snails yet. Though they are a great delicacy.” 

 

The way Charles licked his lips made Erik blush.

 

“Clearly now his tastes have changed. I would go so far as to say he is a true connoisseur when it comes to tasting snails.”

 

Erik made a sound between choking and gasping. He spared his mother a glance, who looked blissfully unaware of the euphemism, then threw Charles an insistent glare.

 

“Really? You serve snails in your restaurants too, do people really like to eat those?”

 

Charles smiled innocently at Edie. “Not that often, I prefer to serve them privately.”

 

“Charles!” Surely his mother must notice something because of the odd phrasing. He would die if she caught on.

 

“Yes, Erik? Does talking about snails make you hungry?”Charles stepped up to him. Erik was sure his own face must be glowing red by now. Charles stopped before their bodies actually touched, yet close enough so Erik could feel Charles' body. “I'm sure you won't have to wait much longer. “Charles' eyes twinkled merrily and he mouthed a kiss at him.

 

“Ah.. why don't you two go ahead into the living-room and sit down. Everything will be ready in ten minutes.”

 

Now Charles looked like he was ready to burst out laughing. He cleared his throat. “Thank you Edie. Just call us, if we should help with the buns or coffee.”

 

Charles linked his arm with Erik's and pulled him out into the living-room. Erik took a shaky breath then whispered. “Charles, you can't do this!”

 

Charles had the nerve to snigger. “Do what?”

 

Erik gave an exasperated sigh. “Just – don't say anything lewd about snails anymore. That is, don't mention snails at all! Steer clear of snails in conversation.”

 

“You don't mean that really.” Out from under Edie's eyes, Charles now showed no reserve and leant against Erik. His hand moved over Erik's thigh. “The first time we met, you didn't mind me talking to you about snails.” 

 

Erik closed his eyes.“For god's sake, Charles! We're at my mother's house!” He hissed. But for some reason, the one thing he didn't do, was step away from Charles.

 

Charles did withdraw his hand, but he stayed with his body plastered against Erik's. “You think she would mind if I were to kiss you?”

 

Erik opened his eyes, his gaze flickered over in the direction of the kitchen. His mother was still there, blissfully unaware of what was going on in her living-room. And Erik wasn't sure. Before Charles he would have said holding hands with another man in front of his mother might be pushing the boundaries of what was comfortable for her – but then his mother had practically declared them boyfriends before they'd had time to define the status of their relationship themselves and now she was - well, as much taken by Charles as Erik was. “I... guess - not.”

 

“Good. For I very much want to kiss you right now.” Charles reached for him and pulled Erik that small bit of distance down. His lips felt warm and welcoming, his skin smelled of that sweet warm smell he associated with baking cinnamon-buns. It was delicious – as was Charles' mouth.

 

“Oh... I think I need to fetch... oh.” 

 

Erik felt himself blush as he heard his mother's voice, full of surprise, and something else. He looked up. Charles turned to face her, but stayed close.

 

“Sorry...” Erik felt odd. He wouldn't say that if he were here kissing a girl. And they were only kissing!

 

But despite looking flustered, his mother raised a hand in a soothing gesture. “Oh, nono, don't. Clearly... clearly you are in love. That is nothing to be sorry for.” She turned away though, and Erik wasn't sure if he saw his mother's eyes shimmer wetly. Confused, he made to follow her into the kitchen, looking back over his shoulder at Charles shortly. Charles indicated with a wave of his hand to go on and follow her.

 

Edie stood at the kitchen counter, hands braced there, head bent down. “Mutti, we didn't mean to upset you.”

 

“You didn't. Oh this is just silly old me. I'm glad to see you so happy again. I didn't say anything, at first it seemed only natural that you would be grieving. But as time passed it looked like nothing – and no-one - could really make you happy again, and I was worried but I didn't know what to do – how to get you to smile again.” She turned to look at him, eyes wet yet smiling. With both hands she cupped his face. “I'm just glad you found someone you love and who loves you so much and to see you so happy together.”

 

“I - I am happy...” Erik searched for a way to put how he felt into words. “And I'm glad you two get along and I feel like I'm terribly lucky – to have Charles in my life. And to have such a great mother.” He hugged her.

 

His mother was crying, laughing, maybe both, then gently slapped his arm. “All right. I'm alright. Now let me take the Zimtschnecken out of the oven before I have to serve your Master Chef boyfriend burnt pastries.”

 

Erik gave her one last squeeze then let go. “Don't worry, I'd take all the blame.”

 

“Oh, I would hope you could think of _something_ to distract your boyfriend with long enough so I can make a new batch.” She winked at him. 

 

Erik stared speechless at his mother, cheeks slowly turning red - again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is slowly coming to a close, there will be one more chapter and an Epilogue.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter  
> Erik still thinks he isn't allowed too many good things in his life. Charles will proove him wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the size of the chapter, [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) was jumping right at it and basically betad while I slept. The odd thing that is time-differences. XD I just want to thank her for the work she put into this fic. I really learned some things and became more aware of the recurring mistakes I am prone to. :) ... Really!
> 
> I have never been to the aquarium in New York (or New York in general) so I went by what the internet showed me. The description of the shark tank there is what I gleaned from what they are going to build there. But it just fit perfectly in what I had planned for the story.

Erik knocked at the open door to Muñoz's office. “Got some time to go over the revised plans?” Usually Erik would wait until later in the morning, but today he wanted to get off work right at lunchtime. Charles was shooting for that seafood special at the aquarium today and Erik had promised he would be there – and not only to watch. He still felt a bit nervous when he thought about it. But he had told Charles he would be there whereever and however he needed him. (Though he might have been distracted as he formulated that sentence. He meant it nevertheless.) He would even go swimming with the sharks. Actually he would prefer it, if he were sent swimming with the sharks, they would surely be more amiable than Mrs. Frost. 

 

Muñoz looked up from his computer. “Sure, why not. Just let me finish this... “ He grinned. “I could do with a coffee, you know.”

 

Erik laughed. “Alright, I can take a hint.” He put the printouts of the plans down on the table, then went for that coffee. Some ten minutes later both men were bent over the table, piecing the printouts together. “Which one is that by the way, the garage or the shopping center?”

 

“To be honest, I can’t even tell anymore by just looking at the structure – ah here it's noted on the top. The shopping center.” Erik sighed. “I tried to suggest something new, but was cut off before I could even get another word out. 'We don't want something new. We have to give the public something they are used to, something that is tried and tested ad nauseam.'”

 

“They really said that last bit?”

 

“No, that is my free interpretation of the ridiculous facts.” Erik pushed his hair back. “Okay, so lets get this done. Ground floor first. They wanted some more storage and office space back here, so I decided to change the primary structures to here...”

 

Amidst checking on a structural calculation Muñoz suddenly put his hands right on what Erik was looking at. “Don't you want to throw it all out the window and just leave? I've seen some of the doodling you do during meetings,and they look way more advanced than this – excuse my language – shit. I mean, your talents are wasted here.”

 

Erik sighed. He would love to quit this boring job and find something that would allow him to work on more interesting projects, but he'd need better references than this. Which meant he would have to give details about his work in Europe, which would boil down to Shaw and him punching the bastard. It was the reason why he had taken this job in the first place... he hadn't minded the mind-numbing work then. 

 

“The thing is, I'm going to quit. I already have a new job-offer.”

 

Erik blinked. He needed a moment to process what Muñoz words meant. “What...wow, that comes as a surprise.” He had enjoyed working with him. “But congratulations. That is, I guess your new job will be less boring than this.”

 

Muñoz laughed. “Oh I dearly hope so. But they focus their activities on housing and residential architecture. So that means probably dealing more with unrealistic custumer-wishes but I will adapt to that. It at least promises to be a challenge and really, if I stayed on here much longer, my brain would surely crumple in on itself due to the lack of creativity. ”

 

Erik grinned, though his heart wasn't really in it. “I'm sure they will let themselves be surprised and dazzled by your ideas, forgetting what they thought they wanted in the first place. So what's the firm you're switching to?”

 

“It's rather new, but I'm sure you've heard of it. Mar10 Studio. Boss is the most grumpy Canadian you will ever meet. That is, I think you sort of have met already.”

 

“Oh yes, I remember. At that gala, the guy I nearly spilled my drink over, when he ran into me.”

 

Muñoz grinned. “Well maybe you should rephrase that into you running into him and apologise when you have that job interview.”

 

Erik's grin died down to be replaced by confusion. “What?”

 

“Okay, obviously you don't have to go for it, if you don't want to. But I know you want to. They are looking for another architect, someone well versed in European architectural trends and I might have mentioned you. So all you really have to do now is call them, make that interview and take the job.”

 

For a moment Erik felt excitement then the dull reality cut in. “I'd love to... fuck it, you know I have no references from my time in Europe.” Erik took a deep breath. “I told you that I hit my boss.” He had given Muñoz an edited version of what happened after they had been working together for about a year. “And that's exactly the reason why I had to take a job like this, designing bloody malls and parking garages.”

 

But Muñoz didn't look concerned at all. “Yes, I know. And that's exactly why, when I got asked if I know an architect for the second job they were offering, I told them about that little – quandary. Thought that if it would be a hindrance in taking you on, I might as well know before I put the opportunity to you.” Muñoz reached for his own phone, selecting a phone-number and held it out to Erik, ready to dial. “So are you gonna call the people at Mar10 Studio for that job-interview or not? Despite you being perfectly qualified, it doesn't say that someone else won't come along and snatch up the opportunity from under your nose.”

 

Erik stared at the phone. He had nothing to lose. He should at least try. “Okay.”

 

 

So that was why at 1pm, Erik got out of an office building with a sign at the entrance saying Mar10 in purple letters on a steel-gray background. He blinked at the bright sunlight, still feeling slightly dazed. The interview had been – intense. The boss, his new boss, had been less interested in past achievements (though Erik had fessed up straight away to his lack of references from his work in Europe due to a confrontation with his former boss) but had thrown a design for a building they had been commissioned at him, asking what he could make of it. 

Apparently the client wanted a house that was a mixture of Hundertwasser and a bubble-shaped array of rooms that reminded Erik of the Barbapapa-house. Not something to his taste at all, but designing such a thing was a challenge. He delivered a draft of how this could work – then had to wait for close to ten minutes before he was told that he had the job. 

 

He would have to call the office – hopefully they wouldn't make a fuss when two of their architects resigned at the same time. He would have to call Muñoz to tell him how it went. 

Erik pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. And he had to call Charles to tell him... he stared at the time on his phone. 1pm. The shoot at the aquarium would start right now. He had promised he would be there. “No... nonononono!”

 

Erik broke into a run down the street. His heart was racing. All he could think was ' _Charles!_ ' 

 

He was barely aware of the hard concrete under his shoes or the people he pushed aside. He ran for the next subway-station, right on the top-stair he stopped himself by gripping the handrail that led down tightly. He had to think, not run about blindly and lose time. A taxi down to the south of Brooklyn usually would be faster! Harried, he let his gaze roam the street jammed with cars, traffic-lights switching from green to red. This wasn't looking good.“Fuck!” Cursing, he ran down the stairs. He couldn't risk it. And he would forever regret it if he got stuck somewhere amidst the traffic. This way at least he had the feeling of moving and being responsible for how fast he could be... except when some tourists expertly blocked the path right in front of him. Erik growled and shoved through them.

 

Finally he was on the subway-train and could do nothing to speed his travel along. He fished out his phone he had pocketed as he started running. No new messages. Erik pressed his lips together. Did that mean Charles wasn't wondering why he wasn't there yet? He quickly tried to call Charles. Maybe there had been a delay and Charles hadn't noticed how late it had gotten already. But he only reached the mailbox. “Charles, I'm so sorry.” Erik's voice sounded strained. “I'm on my way... on the subway right now. But I'll be late... I love you!” Erik hung up. This must have sounded awful. He opened a text-message and started typing. “On my way right now. Sorry I'm late. Something important came up and I totally lost track of time...” Erik stared at the last sentence. That wasn't true, Charles was more important than even that job. He raked his hand through his hair.

 

Charles probably wouldn't even have minded him being late, if only he had remembered and called first. So why hadn't he called him before the interview and told him he didn't know how long it would take? Now Charles must think that he – had run again, just didn't value his promises to Charles, thought him not even worth a message... forgot him? His thoughts spiralled downwards. If he hadn't shown Charles already that he was capable of major fuck-ups he would just walk up to him with a sheepish smile, kiss him and ask to be forgiven. But to Erik, this was everything he hadn't wanted to put Charles through again. Oh and Mrs. Frost surely would be delighted that Erik proved her right in the end after all. “Fuck!” 

 

He deleted the last sentence from the text-message and tried again. “I didn't forget where I am meant to be right now, I only lost track of _time_ over an unexpected opportunity. But I am on my way to you right now.”

 

Erik realised he had basically said that last bit already. He meant to delete it, yet it was the important part. He was on his way, he would be there, as promised. Before he could fuss about the phrasing some more, he hit send.

 

The train seemed to be going much slower than usual, making Erik fidget and glare at people who took too much time getting on or off. Muttering under his breath and balling his hands to fists he glared daggers at the two youths who jumped on the train at the last second, forcing the closing doors apart – wasting precious seconds.

 

Impatiently, Erik checked his phone again and again for any messages. But Charles didn't reply. 

 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he reached West 8th Street Station and got off. He threw his gaze around, trying to find the right exit without having to pause his long strides. He ran down the stairs and barely stopped to catch his bearing once he was on the street, then ran till he reached the entrance to the huge aquarium area.

 

Despite the jittery chaos that were his thoughts, he still remembered Charles' instructions from this morning. _“Go to the info desk at the entrance, they know you're here for the filming and they'll point you in the right direction.”_ With his luck holding out on him – in private matters at least - Erik doubted this would run as smoothly as Charles had made it out. He braced himself to fight his way through to where Charles was, though he doubted he would be able to find the filming location without help. _'Maybe I just can't have both? Once my career starts taking a turn for the better, my relationship goes the opposite way.'_ Erik cringed. Still he was sure about what he would pick should he have to.

 

The young woman at the desk looked wearily at him as Erik approached wearing a grim expression. She smiled nevertheless. “Welcome to ...”

 

“I'm here to see my boyfriend and I'm late! He's filming here today...” 

 

She had looked taken aback to be interrupted so rudely but suddenly her expression changed to one of recognition. “Oh – you're Mr. Lehnsherr?”

 

“What? Yes...”

 

“Not to worry, sir. Please come with me.”

 

Shocked into surprise Erik followed her and got onto what looked like a golf cart. It felt a little surreal as she spoke his name into her mobile radio and then drove off with him. Erik just realised he would have taken forever, if he had to walk the distance. Not to speak of getting lost. She told him something about the filming taking place in the new shark-tank and Erik vaguely wondered if Charles would want to throw him in – helped by Mrs. Frost. Determination made Erik grit his teeth. _'I'll make sure Charles will know I'm sorry... perhaps I should have bought flowers. No, that's not enough – a whole garden maybe.'_ Much to the young woman's surprise a dry laugh escaped him. Erik felt pathetic, but he would get down on his knees and stay there until Charles would forgive him should it be needed.

 

He was led through a staff entrance into a huge modern building, its walls flowing and bending, really something Erik would usually have stopped to admire. Now he wouldn't spare it more than a fleeting glance. They came across a cordoned off area, but the young woman just lifted the tape used as a barrier to let him through. She stayed back, said something to him, but he didn't listen. Way ahead there was a big setup of cameras and lights and people. They made the wide tube-like corridor they stood in look cramped. 

 

Then he spotted a mop of brown hair – Charles. Who might not have read his text-messages, who would still think Erik hadn't cared to show up... Erik started running again.

There were things on the ground Erik jumped over and he zigzagged past people. Someone tried to step in his way, yet determinedly Erik shoved past them, having to get to Charles who stood alone, behind him fish and sharks swimming idly. “Charles, I'm sorry!” They nearly collided as Erik almost stopped too late, throwing his arms around Charles, who gasped in surprise. 

 

“Erik?” Charles' hands were at his shoulders, steadying him.

 

Erik tried to get the words out as fast as he could, in-between gasping for air. “I planned to be here on time, I completely missed how late it got during the job interview, fuck -I fucked up. But if I had to choose, I would choose you. Fuck that job, you are more important to me. I love you!”

 

“Erik...” Charles gave a startled laugh, then smiled warmly. “I love you too.”

 

The simple words made Erik relax, he tried to take a deep breath and realised how hard it was, after the running from the underground, the anxiety to get here, now sprinting to get to Charles – who was not the least bit angry, just surprised. 

 

“Are you alright? You're completely winded. Did you run all the way?”

 

Erik shook his head. “Not all, just most... you're not angry?”

 

The way Charles looked at him made Erik want to kiss him, but he waited for Charles to answer. “Of course not. I got your messages. I'm sorry I didn't have time to reply, but they wanted to start right then. Just made sure they would know at the entrance that you would be late... Erik? I'm sorry, I should have made sure you got a reply from me...”

 

Erik felt dizzy. Charles was apologising to him? He shook his head, cupped Charles' face and brushed his lips against Charles'. He tasted of that weird powder stuff they apparently used whenever Charles had to step in front of a camera. “No, it's alright – I just was so worried that I messed up again. That you might think I wouldn't come here.”

 

Charles' fingertips were at the base of his neck, rubbing over his skin in soothing circles. “You told me you would be here, so I knew you would show up.” Charles sounded certain. “Though it was nice to know you couldn't make it in time but were on your way.”

 

Erik couldn't help but kiss the smiling mouth again, deepening the kiss as Charles' lips parted under his.

 

Suddenly they were rudely interrupted by the sound of clapping and cheering, with the occasional cat-call in between.

 

Erik felt his face turn flaming red. He looked around and realised the whole filming crew was looking at them. At the forefront was Emma Frost, immaculately clad in white. She was clapping too, though without overspending herself. She stopped as Charles and Erik started to take notice of their surroundings again, turned around to say something to a woman beside her who then called “CUT!”.

 

Erik felt his face go from hot to cold. Had they been filming all this time? Had he burst right into...? He turned to Charles for confirmation or denial of his thoughts. “Did I just... ruin the recording?”

 

Charles smiled sheepishly. “You took me by surprise and then – You made me forget that minor detail.”

 

“Minor...” Erik was aghast but at the same time felt a little flattered.

 

Mrs. Frost made her way over to them. “Now that was really lovely. So good of you to make it, Erik, but I would not have counted on such a dramatic entrance. Pity you were cursing so much, so we can't really use the footage I fear.”

 

“You could hear me – us – from over there?” Erik looked between Mrs. Frost and the cameras that were some 10 meters away. Charles gave a little cough to draw his attention and pointed to the little microphone attached to his collar. The one Erik had completely missed.

 

“Oh..f- um...”

 

Emma looked thoughtful. “Except maybe the kiss.”

 

“You can't do that!” Erik snapped at her.

 

“I thought you came here for exactly that. Feature as Charles' boyfriend.”

 

Charles sighed. “No, she can't do that, 'cause I wouldn't agree to it. Erik, Emma is only baiting you. Emma, stop baiting Erik.”

 

Erik felt relieved though he tried not to show it. He had already given that woman way too much satisfaction from his reaction as it was. “Unlike some people, I am serious about this and I'm sorry for ruining this take.”

 

“Don't get me wrong, Erik, I very much like to see you serious about Charles. So why don't you head back to Dress and Makeup we set up over there and we will feature you with a less dramatic entrance. Though it was very Hollywood. You sure we can't use it Charles?”

 

“Very! Though I would like to have a copy.” Charles' eyes twinkled.

 

“Do I want to know what you intend to do with it?” 

 

“Watch it whenever I miss you.”

 

Erik didn't miss Mrs. Frost roll her eyes. He spared her a glance then bent down to kiss Charles shortly on the lips. “I'll get on with it then and sorry for interrupting the filming.”

 

Charles smiled at him. “It was a very nice interruption.”

 

Erik went back to a staff only door, where Mrs. Frost had pointed to, trying to ignore the looks and comments from the other people. Except for the guy in charge of making sure Erik found his change of clothes (things he had picked out with Charles for this) and got his face smothered in that weird powder to make sure he didn't look like he hadn't run to get here. He was rather enthusiastic about Erik's 'declaration of love' and tried to bug him for ideas of what he could do for his own girlfriend, something 'as dramatic and sincere'. His enthusiasm didn't wane when Erik told him he hadn't planned this (his plan had been to be on time after all).

 

Erik was glad when he could get back out, though there wasn't much to do for quite some time, they were still filming Charles talking about something that sounded like the history of seafood from what Erik could catch.

 

So Erik sat back and watched Charles, occasionally distracted by his surroundings. The gigantic fish tank surrounding them was impressive after all. And the construction of the glass tunnel, that ran through it, that held back tons of water was stunning. He decided he would have to read up on the construction of the building. And then there were the colourful coral reefs forming an alien landscape in-between which fish of all forms and sizes swam. Sharks lazily glided by and rays seemed to fly gracefully through the water. He even spotted a sea turtle. It had suddenly shown up in the tank behind Charles and Erik had to refrain himself (just in time) from calling it out to him. Barging in and disrupting the filming once was embarrassing enough already. 

 

Then all of a sudden the woman who was directing waved him over. “Mr. Lehnsherr.”

 

Suddenly Erik felt nervous. He noticed the guy from make-up was busy applying more of the horrid powder on Charles and the film-crew was moving some stuff around.

 

“Though you have given us quite an entrance today already, I was thinking of making this a little more subtle. We will be filming that dinner scene later on, but now I want you to just stroll through the tube here with Charles, looking at the fish. We won't be recording any dialogue, so feel free to talk about whatever you like. Just don't look at the camera.”

 

Erik nodded. That sounded easy to do. Charles was good at making him forget his surroundings after all. His gaze flitted over to him. The makeup-guy did something to Charles' hair, giving Erik the urge to run his fingers through the soft brown strands as soon as possible.

 

“...Mr. Lehnsherr?” The director tried to get his attention again. 

 

“Yes, I'm sorry, you were saying?” Had she been calling his name more than once already? But she only looked slightly amused.

 

“Just one more thing, try not to kiss Charles. This special is about seafood and in the part shot here at the aquarium, we want to focus on the fascinating world of the ocean in general, so we need the enthusiasm focused on the fish. This will make us able to wrap things up faster – and you can get to the kissing part quicker.” She winked at him, clearly teasing, making Erik give a crooked smile despite his blush.

 

“What kissing part?” Charles suddenly was by his side, putting an arm around his waist.

 

Erik tried to make a straight face. “I'm to jump in the tank and kiss a shark.”

 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Too many teeth, you might hurt your tongue. What about an octopus?” The words and expression were innocent, while Charles' arm sneaked down, his hand threatening to slither into his trousers. Erik nearly yelped and jumped while Charles snickered.

 

The director sighed. “Please, the same goes for you Charles. We want all your excessive enthusiasm focused on the fish. And now make your way to the end of the corridor where we put the mark and slowly stroll down. We will do some close-ups after that.”

 

###

 

In the end they had to walk down the tunnel toward the camera six times. Once they were too fast, then one of the lights was out, then the fish weren't right (whatever that meant) and once they got stuck plastered to one spot and didn't move because a sea turtle had come close to the glass and was floating there. The moment was too good to ignore. It looked like it was waving at them with its flipper.

 

Then came the close-ups and someone with a hand-held camera was following them. This was way harder to ignore and act natural around. Especially when the director's voice demanded repeats of little gestures, like: “Could you point out that fish to Charles again. Charles, explain that again and Mr. Lehnsherr, can we have a little nod and then look out into the aquarium instead of looking at Charles' face...” Enthusiasm for the fish! 

 

Erik was glad when it was over. So that left only the dinner-scene. Charles was already in front of the camera again, explaining about important do's and don'ts of preparing and serving seafood while Erik still had a moment to himself. He sat at the side, half staring into the aquarium only to have his attention drawn back to Charles when he said something more loudly, laughed or made a big gesture.

 

“He had no doubts that you would make it.”

 

Startled, Erik looked up at Mrs. Frost who had crept up on him. “Unlike you.” He made it a statement, not a question.

 

She raised a delicately drawn eyebrow. “I would not say that. I really hoped he would be right. Charles' work-life is stressful enough, he does not need any more drama in his private life.”

 

“And you really think you can advise him on that too?”

 

“Clearly not. I told him he was crazy giving you another chance after you had left him.”

 

Erik gritted his teeth. 

 

“But it does seem like he's been right so far.”

 

Erik blinked, surprised. She didn't say she was wrong but… Erik stood up. “I told him myself that he shouldn't give me another chance... but I'm damn glad he didn't listen.”

 

Mrs. Frost studied his face thoughtfully. “Yes.”

 

###

 

It would have been a romantic candlelight dinner, if the cameras were not circling them. At least the dialogue would not be heard and the food was excellent – as was everything Charles cooked. 

 

“Your smile looks very happy.”

 

“Delicious dinner – though I must say I was a bit sceptical about having only fish courses, but they all taste so different.”

 

“It's a misconception that all fish taste the same and with the right spices and side dishes you can really bring out their different flavours. Anything else that makes you happy right now?”

 

“You.” Erik grinned at the light blush the one word caused.

 

“Good to know I rank right after the food!” Charles teased. “But – you said something about a job interview.”

 

“Ah yes, it was the reason I missed the time.”Erik shook his head. “A college of mine, Muñoz, maybe you remember, you met him when you came to my office the first time. He told me today he got a new job, and they were looking for yet another architect and he'd mentioned me to his new boss – he made me call right away and I was asked for a job interview directly and – well – got a new job working at an architecture firm that is not doing garages and malls but housing. Part of the work is redesigning old building structures but they also get commissions for new buildings. Mostly small scale stuff like family homes – eccentric family homes.” Erik added after thinking about the crazy no-straight-wall design they had him look into. “But it's also a challenge – a real challenge.”

 

“This is great. You really deserve something like this ...”

 

“Do I? It's, I'm sorry.” Erik shook his head. He still couldn't believe it, the job and still being able to sit here with Charles. He looked at him fondly, wondering how different his life suddenly looked – because his mother had gotten all excited about a cooking show. 

 

The spell was broken by a waiter, someone from one of Charles' restaurants, bringing two small plates, but didn't put them in front of Charles and Erik, instead handing both to Charles. Curious, Erik eyed the two plates and blushed. There were oysters resting on a bed of salt, their tender meat coated with a light sauce mixed with spring onions, and on the other plate snails with a topping of finely chopped bacon sitting in a carrot and green salad mix.

 

How Charles managed to grin wickedly yet let his voice sound so innocent, Erik couldn't fathom. “Now Erik, is it oysters or snails for you?”

 

Erik felt his cheeks heat even more and with a groan he attempted to hide his face. “You'll never stop with that will you?!”

 

“Not as long as you squirm so adorably when I mention snails – or oysters.”

 

Erik picked the snails in the end, though he made a face at the taste.

 

“Snails not to your taste?”

 

Erik shook his head. “Apparently there is only one large snail I would like in my mouth, and I hope I will get it for dessert.” He managed to keep a straight face while he dropped his gaze pointedly at Charles' lap. A bigger triumph still, as Charles blushed, and he couldn't resist. He leant over the table to steal a kiss.

 

“You can dirty talk as much as you like, but as I explained before – no kissing!” The director's voice made them acutely aware, that they were (still) not alone. Sheepishly, Erik and Charles looked at each other – then broke out laughing.

 

###

 

There was one last thing the director wanted them to do – swim with the fish. It was rather an impromptu idea, that came from talking with the person from the aquarium marketing department who was overseeing the whole filming. Charles probably would have felt more reluctant about it, but Erik had looked delighted – and he was cutting a fine figure in a wet suit. Charles couldn't help but stare as one of the aquarium-staff helped him zip up the suit at the back. A pity they would not be alone, when it came to unzipping that thing again. Charles licked his lips, the idea of running his hands through Erik's wet hair, pulling him close to kiss him, then running his hands over Erik's body just covered by a thin layer of neoprene moulded perfectly to his body ... He shifted and wrinkled his nose at the discomfort. Tight suit. Right.

 

“And you guarantee this is safe?” Emma stood a few paces back, at the steps that led up to the gallery from which they would dive into the gigantic tank to swim with sea-turtles, sharks and rays. The contact from the aquariums marketing department smiled reassuringly. “We have quite a few people booking such a dive, so this is very much routine.”

 

But Emma didn't look impressed. She didn't fidget or show much on her face, but Charles recognised the tiny signs of tension.

 

“Mrs. Frost, are you afraid one of the fish will eat Charles?” Apparently Erik had caught on to it too. “You don't have to worry, I won't allow it.” Erik stepped up to him, he leant close to Charles' ear. “Let me help you with this.” Erik pulled up the zipper on the suit and obviously he had been thinking the same as Charles before about him. Though he did not content himself with just looking. Unobtrusively he squeezed Charles' butt with one hand, nearly making him yelp in surprise. “Though I can fully understand why one of the sharks would like a taste of you.”

 

Charles felt flustered, but no-one seemed to have noticed Erik's hand 'slipping'. “Just you wait till we're back home tonight. I don't have an aquarium but I think the bathtub will do nicely for you.”

 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Just for me? I hope you plan on joining me.”

 

“Yes, after I push you into the water-filled tub fully clothed to peel all that wet fabric from your body.”

 

Erik stared at him, lips parted and his pupils dilated. His voice sounded husky as he finally spoke. “All right – lets get this over with quick so we can get home!”

 

The way Erik said it made Charles reach out for his hand and pull him back. “One more thing. Do you want to move in with me? For good!”

 

Erik looked surprised, then smiled and leaned closer to look right into Charles' eyes. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Happy End.   
> This started out as a small tumblr snippet, inspired by one of the lovely gif-sets by starrose17, edged on by Ohteepeeh it grew... and now it's done. Thank you all who stuck with the story, gave comments, kudos and bookmarked the fic, hope you enjoyed this last installment.
> 
> As mentioned this will get an Epilogue, with some snippets that I wanted to write but just didn't fit in the timeframe. So there is still a little bit more to tell. :)


	39. Epilogue I.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit more. This consists of three pieces that are not connected.  
> Knight in White Apron: Starts with Sexy-times but then someone shows up at Charles' restaurant who just should not!  
> Feeling Plum: Erik is moving in with Charles, but still has some packing to do. Charles 'helps'.  
> This Couch is Only for Two: At an Art-show of Raven, Erik acquires an admirer. (Inspired by Comic Con)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Beta-Captain [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) made sure this chapter steered clear of grammatical-icebergs and guided it safely through the comma-reef.
> 
> That it took so long for part of the promised Epilogue coming up is totally my fault. Hope you still enjoy the fluff and tiny bits of Angst.

**Knight in White Apron**

**Inspired by this photoset http://issabella.tumblr.com/post/53444978332/black-betty-oh-my-god-that-last-one-that-is and the little scene in Shakespear retold-Macbeth with James as Macbeth, where he throws someone out of the restaurant.  
**

 

Charles sat in the empty restaurant, everything was ready for tomorrow. The tables were covered with white tablecloths, waiting for the glasses, plates, cutlery and napkins. It was quiet and Charles felt himself relax. The next night he would be in the kitchen. The exhilaration of working on several dishes at once, trying to get everything out to the guests in time, every single dish needing to be perfect would press down on him like a wave, trying to bury him. But he would ride that wave, not stopping to think even for a moment but simply doing what he knew. 

But for tonight he could relax.

 

Charles heard the front door being unlocked, closed and then locked again. He looked up from the paper he had been reading to see Erik walking in. Charles smiled, as he let his gaze roam over the suit-clad body. Erik looked different – better - than when they had first met. Not that he hadn't been gorgeous then. But now he seemed more at ease and relaxed, also smiling more. Especially when he was talking about work – something he hadn't done much before, but now there was an enthusiasm there, that Charles was delighted to see, even if sometimes Erik's recounts got laden with technical terms that threw Charles.

 

Now Erik was smiling at Charles as he came closer. He raised his hand, showing the key dangling there. “Someone sent me this key and an invitation. Though I did think I could get dinner out of this. This is a restaurant after all.”

 

Charles gave a slow smile. “I can't help it, I simply love to hand you keys to my life.”

 

Erik grinned and slid the key back into his pocket, before he bent down to kiss Charles on the mouth. 

 

“And as for dinner, you could think of me as one of the dishes. “ For emphasize Charles climbed onto the table he had been sitting at, smiling down at Erik. 

 

Erik laughed and shook his head. “If the guests could see you like this now – or your staff. They would lose all fear of you.”

 

“But they can't - only you can. And you I want to - inspire.” Charles mused and suddenly slid out of his jacket, dropping it down on the chair beside Erik. His eyes twinkled. “Actually, you can do more than just look. But why don't you have a seat first.”

 

Erik slid down into the chair and looked up at Charles expectantly. He licked his lips. “Now what will I get?”

 

“Dessert.” Charles undid the buttons of his shirt, all the while looking down at Erik, whose gaze followed Charles' fingers. His lips parted involuntarily, making him look deliciously vulnerable. Erik only looked up at Charles' face again as Charles slid the shirt slowly over his shoulders. He could see Erik's Adam's-apple bob as he swallowed and put his hands on the table. He looked sorely tempted to reach out for Charles, so Charles dangled the stripped off shirt in front of Erik who grabbed it and pulled. He gave a dismayed growl as Charles simply let go. “Tease!” Erik ground out.

 

“Now Erik I really can ask you for some restraint, since I'm already letting you have dessert before dinner.”

 

“But _you_ for dessert does not ruin my appetite for anything. It just makes me want to have more of you.”

 

Charles started unfastening his trousers and Erik's hands wandered up to grasp the trouser-legs, pulling insistently. 

 

Charles stopped him by planting a booted foot on Erik's shoulder and pushing him back. “What did I say – restraint! You can unlace my shoes though.”

 

Erik growled but did as he was told. Charles raised one foot then the other to let Erik rid him of shoes and socks, staying perfectly balanced without swaying much – and still keeping a hold on his trousers. Erik slid his hands under the trouser-legs, massaging Charles' calves, what only got him a raised eyebrow as a result.

 

Reluctantly, Erik let go of him and sat back. His eyes gleamed darkly. “Oh you will wish for me to have no restraint once I get my mouth on you.”

 

Smiling, Charles put his hands on his hips, pushing the open trousers and underwear underneath teasingly down just a little. “Promises, promises.”

 

“Just take the rest of your clothes off!”

 

Charles tilted his head to one side, but then grinning, let his trousers drop and pushed them off the table with one foot. “Like this?” 

 

Erik leant closer again, unable to resist it seemed. “Charles, please...” 

 

Charles slowly rubbed himself through the fabric of his underwear. “Mhmm, Erik. This what you want to do to me, or this...” He slid his hand into his briefs, grasping his cock, leisurely stroking himself.

 

Erik's hands took hold of Charles' ankles and he looked up at him, a dark smile playing at his lips. “Why don't you come a little closer, have me help you with that … and let me make you beg?”

 

Charles chuckled but then crouched down and sat on the table. Erik let go of his ankles so Charles could dangle his legs over the edge. Charles leant forward to kiss Erik, burying his hands in Erik's hair. 

 

Erik's hands moved up his legs to his briefs and Charles lifted his hips so Erik could get the underwear off him but Erik pushed him back. His grin was decidedly evil. “You wanted restraint, remember.” With that he started kissing, licking and gently biting Charles' thighs, only slowly working his way up until Charles squirmed.

 

Erik teased Charles a little longer before he took his briefs off, wet with pre-cum and saliva from where he mouthed Charles' straining erection through the fabric.

 

It only took a short while longer for Erik to have Charles beg.

 

Xxx

 

Erik looked around the full restaurant. The place seemed transformed with the light, the people and the noise they made. And also the delicious smell of Charles' cooking.

 

Apparently you'd have had to make reservations weeks in advance for this opening night and Erik had been a little shocked and intimidated to be reminded of his boyfriends fame again – and also he couldn't stop himself from thinking that they'd had sex in this same room just the night before, where now people were sitting unknowing of the moaning and panting that had filled the restaurant just 24 hours before. Suddenly Erik felt rather hot and he was grateful for the glass of cold water on the table.

 

There was a downside to it all though and it was not being reminded of the hot sex he'd had with his boyfriend. He had a table to himself and it would stay that way for the whole evening. Tonight Charles would be too busy in the kitchen to slip out to chat with him – or write notes. Though it was better than the alternative he'd been threatened with. Sharing the table with Mrs. Frost. It had looked like that would happen, but then she had several journalists hooked on writing about the opening and was sitting at a table with them. 

 

Ever since the day he came running into the New York Aquarium and kissed Charles in front of a shark-tank and running cameras, she had seemed to come round to the fact that Erik meant to stay in Charles' life. Yet despite her no longer looking at Erik like she wanted to freeze him with her stare, he worried she could come up with some marketing strategy that would involve him, should he spend too much time in her presence and thus reminding her of his existence. 

 

So Erik had settled for a rather quiet and uneventful, even though delicious dinner. But then he found the note tucked in the napkin. Erik looked puzzled at it, then figured Charles must have had prepared something in advance.

 

_Tonight after this is over, I only want to pull you into my arms and sleep, knowing you are there beside me._

 

A tender smile spread on Erik's lips, that quickly turned into a stifled little gasp as he read on.

 

_But tomorrow morning I want to wake before you do, and start waking you by slowly licking your body, tracing the muscles of your belly, then following along that vein that runs down from there to suck and lick at your thighs until you wake up aroused. Half asleep you want to reach down but I have tied up your hands with the tie you wore this night..._

 

Erik reached up to touch the tie as if to see if Charles hadn't already gotten his hands on it.

 

_I'll push your legs apart and start licking along your cock and balls until you spread your legs for me to plunge my tongue down the cleft and..._

 

“Fuck.” Erik swore under his breath. He had to stop reading. He wondered if Charles really would be too tired after they got home – probably late. Too tired even for some hot yet short shower sex? Perhaps. Maybe he would like to watch Erik touch himself, while he moaned Charles' name... and then Erik had to stop thinking, since a cold shower was not an option at the moment. He tried to appreciate the starter on the plate in front of him, giving it his full attention.

 

He was even more glad he didn't sit at a table with Emma Frost tonight. There was a thought that worked as well as a cold shower. He put the note into his pocket. He could not read it now or he might do something stupid, like wander into the kitchen, and Charles really didn't need the distraction right now – though he would deserve it, being such a tease.

 

After the first course he did see Charles though. He came out of the kitchen to welcome everyone to the grand reopening of the restaurant. As he passed Erik he put his hand on his shoulder to give it a short squeeze. Erik looked up. Though his hair was looking lank, straying into his face, from the kitchen steam, there was an unmistakable energy and excitement about him. If he weren't in love with the man already, Erik was sure he would fall for him now.

 

Charles got applause and everyone listened to his little speech. “Please enjoy your evening.” With that he turned around to head back into the kitchen, though not without taking a detour past Erik's table. “Got the message?”

 

“Let's see if you're really that tired when we get home, or if I can't persuade you to stay awake a little longer.”

 

Charles laughed and winked at him. “Perhaps you should try to beg.” His fingers brushed along the nape of Erik's neck, making a small shiver run down his spine. 

 

“You...” But Charles had already retreated toward the kitchen and Erik was left to stare after him and the glorious way his ass looked in the white trousers he wore. He sighed. This night promised to become very interesting – but then Charles had promised revenge for edging and teasing him endlessly and having him beg before he let him come. Erik licked his lips. He was looking forward to things to come.

 

Even as the main course was being served, there were still guests coming in. Latecomers - to such an event as this. Inwardly Erik shook his head but otherwise didn't pay them much attention. He only felt a little annoyed on Charles' behalf. Really, arriving in the middle of dinner showed little respect. 

 

He was only halfway through savouring the dish when suddenly someone approached and stopped right in front of his table. “So I was seeing correctly. Erik Lehnsherr. I'm surprised you can afford a place like this – after you decided to ruin your career.”

 

He hadn't heard that voice in years, yet it was sickeningly familiar. Erik grew still, it was like his whole body had gone numb all of a sudden and he slowly raised his head, which felt incredibly heavy- he looked up into the face of Sebastian Shaw. 

 

“Shaw...” Erik nearly choked on the name.

 

“I'm here with business associates, you seem to be on your own. Last time I checked your name didn't show up on anything notable that was being built. I thought you had actually crawled under a rock and died, after your wife kicked you out.” His voice dripped with malicious pleasure.

 

Erik's grip on the knife and fork in his hands tightened. His mind was playing scenarios in his head where he rammed both into Shaw's head... NO! He would not be goaded by that man. It would achieve nothing, it wouldn't bring Anya back, it would only mean trouble – and cause problems for Charles. He surely would not enjoy the press about a brawl in his first-class-restaurant. Erik pressed his lips together. 

 

Yet Shaw didn't seem disappointed by his silence but smirked in triumph. “Well, really, what was I to expect once you showed your true colours, too rude to even greet your former boss. Or too ashamed and full of regret?”

 

“What do you want?”

 

Shaw put his hands on Erik's table, making Erik lean back involuntarily. “What I want? Just inquiring about my former employee. Who was stupid enough to throw it all away.”

 

It was strangely hard to breathe. “My daughter had just died, your comment...”

 

“Get real Erik. You could have had more children, healthy ones. Maybe not with that wife of yours but there would have been many a pretty girl who would have loved to marry a successful architect – what have you now, no wife, no children, no career...”

 

Erik surged up from his seat, the blood rushing in his ears drowned out all except Shaw's hateful words. He made to grab the man but Shaw stepped back. “Tsk-tsk.” He wagged a finger at him. “Now Erik, remember the court order. You have to stay ten meters away from me. I could call the cops on you.”

 

“You came up to me.” Erik gritted out between clenched teeth. “I was here first and you just walked up...” Damn it, he had played right into the man's hands, hadn't he.

 

“That doesn't matter because I am here on business - for an important meeting. I am important, you are not. And you have only yourself to blame for that.”

 

Erik shook his head. “What you call success, I don't want that. I should never have listened to you.”

 

“You just don't have the stomach for this business, little sacrifices have to be made. Pity I didn't see how useless you were before I wasted my time on you. Now, are you going to leave, or do I have to call the police?” With that Shaw pulled his mobile out of a pocket.

 

Erik felt his stomach churn, nauseated by Shaw's words. He had put the cutlery down when he stood up but now was keeping a tight hold on the edge of the table, otherwise he was sure he would just try and strangle Shaw. He had to look away from the smug smiling face or else... His gaze focused on the mobile in Shaw's hand. 

 

Could he really? Of course he could, this was Shaw, he had no scruple. He didn't care if he ruined the whole restaurant-opening, if it gave him the chance to humiliate the man who had dared to punch him.

 

Shaw's finger moved. He started to type in a number.

 

Erik straightened, swaying slightly. He didn't feel like eating any more anyway, so he might as well leave... leave and hope he would never hear of Shaw again. Let Shaw have his petty victory. Erik gritted his teeth. _'He isn't worth it, he isn't worth it, he isn't worth it...'_ He tried to hold on to the words as he slowly stepped away from the table. 

 

He had looked forward to heading home with Charles later – but then he could just as well wait for him there. Better than having to sleep in a cell at any rate.

 

Still, it tasted bitter, that Shaw could do that. Tears of frustration welled up in Erik's eyes. He forced himself to take another step back. _'Just turn your back on him and leave!'_

 

“Excuse me, but I think you have to leave!” Charles suddenly rushed past him and planted himself between a startled Shaw and Erik.

 

It only took Shaw a moment to recover. He gave Charles a haughty look. Either he didn't recognise him or didn't care. “Really? I don't think so.”

 

“You are bothering one of my guests. I won't tolerate that in my restaurant. I won't repeat myself again. Please leave now.”

 

“I surely will not be thrown out of a restaurant by a – cook.” Shaw sneered. “I have important business associates with me and you should think twice before annoying the wrong people because of some dispensable loser.”

 

Suddenly Charles surged forward, grabbed Shaw by his jacket and dragged him toward the door. “I warned you, since you will not leave my restaurant on your own, I have to escort you out!” Charles' loud voice filled the restaurant, quieting everyone.

 

Erik stared in shock at Shaw's expression, a mix of spluttering indignity and anger. And then he was gone. Someone opened the door for Charles and he just pushed Shaw through the door. “You are barred from all of my restaurants.”

 

“You can't...”

 

Charles shut the door in his face.

 

“Oh I can.” To the concierge he said. “Please call the police should he try and enter again.”

 

Slowly, Erik took notice of his surroundings again.

 

People were staring. Emma Frost stood close-by, arms crossed. She looked pleased? Why? 

 

One of the journalists was looking at the camera in his hand. Had he been taking pictures? Of course he would have his camera with him to take some of Charles and the reopening. Did this mean the little scene would be plastered all over the papers the next day?

 

Had Erik ruined it by being here, by his former boss showing up, still angry at the fact that he'd hit him? Did he just cause bad press for Charles? He should have left quietly. And let Shaw win? No! But now... the damage was done. He should say or do something to – explain the situation. Though he couldn't think clearly of how he could explain this without making it look bad for Charles. Shaw was an ass-hole, but he had done nothing illegal or forced Erik to neglect his family. Erik's knees felt weak and his breathing came in shaking gasps. Shaw’s words still echoed in his mind – cruel words, burning him. He sank down into his chair again.

 

Charles was beside him, on one knee so his face was more level with Erik's. Concerned, he looked up at him. “Erik, are you alright?”

 

“Yes, I'm sorry...”

 

“Nonsense, this is not your fault. I never thought... I would have made sure Shaw was barred from my restaurants from the start, if I had thought he would show up here in New York.”

 

“No, Charles, that is not necessary. It's your restaurant, it's nothing to do with my past and my...”

 

“Hush...” Charles leant in to kiss him. Erik felt like the numbness that had crept up on him when Shaw had shown up, finally left him. “I'm sorry, I have to go back to the kitchen, but we'll talk later. Is that alright?”

 

Erik nodded, but then reached out to hug Charles once more, needing to feel the warmth and presence of the other man. “Thank you.”

 

It took him a moment to become aware of the sound of clapping coming from a table nearby, then another took it up and suddenly the whole room echoed with it.

 

Erik was too surprised to feel embarrassed. He looked around. Someone from the table next to his nodded at him. 

 

They must have heard, of course they heard, Shaw hadn't been exactly quiet in his taunting.

 

Charles gave a little curt bow in the direction of the room, then turned once more back to Erik. “Should you need me, just come back to the kitchen, okay?” He waited for Erik's affirmation before he got back to work.

 

Erik didn't quite remember the dessert he ate, his mind still straying to the incident. And even though the reaction of the other guests had been supportive (except for Shaw's business associates, but they had simply left) he still had a butterfly-feeling in his belly, worrying about the consequences of the night. Also he wasn't sure what to make of Mrs. Frost's non-reaction. He had expected she would chew him out over causing such trouble for Charles and he was half relieved when she finally came over to sit down at his table.

 

“I am sorry having to ask this now, but as you can guess the journalists have taken note of the little – incident. I did talk them out of interviewing you, though Charles will have to talk with them, but it would help if you could tell me what happened there so I could give them an official statement.” She sounded a lot less cold and threatening than Erik was used to and he gaped at her.

 

“I caught a little of what this guy said to you before fetching Charles...”

 

“You did?”

 

“Of course. How do you think it would look, if Charles didn't stop a person trying to coerce his boyfriend into leaving his own restaurant?” That sounded more like the Mrs. Frost he had come to know. “Anyway, he has a very capable attorney who can deal with this, should this Shaw-guy try and sue Charles.”

 

Erik gave a shaky smile. “Thank you – nevertheless.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at that but Erik continued before she could say something that might make him rethink his decision. “Sebastian Shaw was my former boss...” He tried to keep his statement short and simple. Though Mrs. Frost asked some more questions about Shaw, she refrained from digging deeper into what he was telling her about his little family. And he was grateful for that too.

 

Before the night was over Charles went up to the journalists table and gave an interview, but it didn't take long and finally they could head home. 

 

The night did not end like Erik had imagined but just the way he needed it to. In their bed, with Charles' arms around him, him whispering sweet nothings into his ears and kissing his neck before they both drifted off to sleep.

 

The articles about the restaurant-opening that popped up the next day did the rest to reassure Erik that no lasting damage had been done. And they both laughed at the one titled “Knight in Shining White Apron”.

  

 

xxx

 

 **Feeling Plum** _according to the online dictionary,_ plum _can also be used for 'desireable'_

**Inspired by Magneto's trousers in xmdofp XD**

 

Charles balanced a big pile of books he had collected from beside Erik's bed, to put them in one of the boxes on the bedroom-floor. Erik meanwhile was clearing out his wardrobe, or rather what was left of it. Most of his clothes had already made their way to Charles' place. But it was strange how many bits and pieces they still had to collect.

 

Charles tried to sort the books in a way so they would all fit into one box. “How come all books are always different sizes? And I never realised the impractical size of my own cookbook has.” Charles gave up trying to squeeze it into the too small box.

 

Erik came over from where he had made two piles of clothing, one for donating and the other for taking with him. “Just give it to me, I'll put it in my bag.”

 

Charles made to hand it over to Erik and as he took hold of it, pulled him down with it. Startled, Erik wavered and braced himself on Charles' shoulder, then smiling, crossed the final distance for a kiss. 

 

“Where do you want to put the book anyway?” If Erik had no idea yet, Charles thought about putting it on the bookshelf in the living-room next to the Spartacus DVD – all things that led to their first date.

 

“I thought about my half of the office space upstairs.” Erik pulled the book from Charles' unresisting fingers. He looked fondly at the picture of Charles on the cover.

 

“I wonder how this will inspire your architecture. Hmmm, now that I come to think of it, why do you have the book not in the kitchen but in your bedroom – next to your bed?” Charles raised an inquiring eyebrow, but couldn't help his lips curling up in a grin. “I doubt that you woke up in the middle of the night and decided you needed to read up on how to make French Onion soup. So what else is in there that might have kept you - entertained?”

 

Erik opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to ignore the heat creeping up over his neck. “Well it has your note and phone-number in it. So I wanted to keep that close and safely away from any stains it might get in the kitchen.”

 

Charles got up. “So what stains did it get in your bed?” He reached for the book but Erik stepped back. Charles followed him.

 

“I might have – admired the photographs but ...”

 

“Just admired? I don't believe you!” Charles lunged for the book, Erik tried to step aside but misjudged how close he was to the bed already. They both tumbled onto the mattress, Charles right on top of Erik who tried to squirm away and keep the book away from Charles. They were both laughing breathlessly from all the squirming, before Erik tried to switch tactics. Wrapping his legs around Charles, he stretched as far back as possible to keep the book out of Charles' reach and keep Charles locked in place. Charles' laughter turned into a throaty chuckle and he gave a soft gasp. “You know, we never had sex in your bed. Or rather, you didn't have sex here with the real me.” He shifted, rubbing his crotch suggestively against Erik's, making him moan. Charles no longer tried to reach the book, but clasped Erik's forearms with his hands and held him in place, then bent down to kiss and suck at Erik's exposed throat.

 

“Oh God Charles!” Erik's fingers went weak and he let go of the book. 

 

“Mhmmm...”Charles ran his tongue teasingly over Erik's Adam’s apple. “What did you fantasize about, here in your bed?”

 

Erik tried to remember, but it was hard to think clearly when Charles was distracting him. 

 

Charles stopped but only to look into Erik's eyes, blue eyes compelling. “Don't be shy, you can tell me.” 

 

Erik gave a shuddering breath. “You...” Erik swallowed. “You come into the apartment, looking for , you walk into the bedroom.”

 

Charles sighed. Pleased. “What do I see, Erik? What are you up to?”

 

Erik closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the feel of Charles' weight on top of him. “I've taken off my shirt, only wear jeans... no underwear. I didn't bother taking the trousers off, just opened them and started stroking myself. Now I don't realise you are there, because I have turned my head to the side to look at the pictures of you - in the book.“

 

Charles licked over Erik's ear and sucked at his earlobe, making Erik shiver in anticipation. “I knew you've been naughty with it. Perhaps we should put it in the bedroom too?” 

 

Erik just nods.

 

“But tell me, now that I've caught you, what do I do?”

 

“You call my name. First I think it's only me fantasizing but then I realise it's real... you're real.”

 

Charles shifted on top of him and Erik could feel how turned on he was. “Yes, I'm very real.”

 

“You tell me you didn't give me the book for that. I sit up and try to explain...”

 

“Make excuses.” Charles kissed him. “I can see you looking flustered and still with your hands down your trousers, stroking yourself, unable to stop.”

 

“Yes! You come closer, pull off your shirt, tell me you gave it to me so I would call you when I needed this. You get onto the bed, behind me, so you can kiss my neck, whisper in my ear what you want to do to me. And you slide your arms around me...one hand grasps mine and now you’re controlling how I stroke myself.”

 

“Would you like me to do that to you now?”

 

Erik nodded, no longer trusting his voice.

 

xxx

 

 

Erik retrieved his trousers from between the bedsheets, only to find they showed stains – unlike in his fantasies, Charles finally had him take them off, but they must have gotten entangled with the sheets and them. “So I guess it's a good thing I haven't packed everything away yet.” 

 

Charles chuckled. “Whatever would have been the alternative? You driving in your car only wearing underwear? That doesn't sound so bad.” Then he bent down and picked up a pair of trousers. “What about – Erik? What are those?” His gaze had fallen on the pair underneath the plain jeans he had picked up from the 'to keep' heap. “What's that colour? Maroon... purple, plum? And are they flared at the bottom?” Gingerly, Charles picked the offending trousers up, giving Erik a disbelieving look. “When the hell did you ever wear those?”

 

Erik sighed. “They are vintage and it was a phase during my university years!”

 

Charles laughed. “Who would have thought. Neo-hippie Erik? Make love not war! Do you have any pictures?”

 

Erik frowned. “No, I don't think so. Magda took most of the photo-albums and the ones she left...” Erik shrugged. “Well I didn't look through them and just sent them back here. They are still unpacked at my mother's place.”

 

Charles looked curious, but his voice was kept neutral, holding no pressure. “Want to look through them some time?”

 

Erik pressed his lips together. He hadn't really wanted to look at the pictures and be plunged into the memories. But they weren't all painful, even when they had seemed to be just a few months back. 

With Charles beside him, he probably could look at them, knowing if it became too much Charles was there, would listen, not judge. Be there for him. His gaze shifted to the trousers and Charles who still held them in a sort of horrid fascination. Suddenly he _wanted_ to show the pictures to Charles and see his reaction, be it amusement or something else, he wanted to share that with him. The frown was replaced with a smile. “Maybe – yes.” 

 

He reached out and put his hand on Charles', who finally let go of the trousers and entangled their fingers. He smiled at him and leant closer for another kiss. 

 

Xxx

 

**This Couch is Only for Two**

**Inspired by this interview: http://insidemovies.ew.com/2013/07/20/x-men-days-of-future-past-comic-con/**

 

They had come to the opening of one of Raven's exhibitions and drifted from room to room together, looking at the black and white photographs brought to a surreal life by the way Raven had painted over them. 

 

Drinks and snacks were served by waiters wearing dark grey waistcoats. They all had one bare arm colourfully painted. It was like a nod to Raven's art.

 

Charles picked a spoon with some chocolate cream, raspberry and thinly cut physalis-fruit while Erik was still too distracted by the artwork. “I think what they have on their arms are actually pieces from your sister's artwork on display.”

 

Charles looked up from examining the food to take a look himself. “Yes, looks like it. You do have an eye for detail. I guess her friend - Angel worked with her on that. They have done some collaborations before. Ah you actually met Angel last time, remember? She does that body-paint stuff.”

 

How could Erik forget the girl who had flirted with him – the one Charles seemed rather frostily polite towards. “Yes, the ex-girlfriend. ”

 

Charles rolled his eyes. “That too, sorry.”

 

Erik shrugged. It didn't matter. “She told me about doing body-painting.” Now Erik wondered if Angel had ever used Charles as canvas for her art, though he decided he didn't want to know really. He moved just a little closer, so their bodies brushed. “Are you going to eat this or is it not passing muster?” He indicated the spoon still in Charles' hand.

 

“Oh that, well...” But then he shook his head. “You might have to remind me I'm not here to judge.” He finally had mercy and ate the fruits and cream, though obviously he couldn't stop himself from chewing slowly and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “Less sugar...” He only said it under his breath but Erik was close enough to hear. He playfully bumped his jeans-clad hip against Charles. 

 

“What?” Charles looked up at him with a fond smile.

 

“You told me to remind you!”

 

Charles grinned sheepishly. “Can't help it.”

 

Erik picked a spoon with a similar serving from a passing tray and ate it with aplomb. “Tastes fine to me.” He leant a little closer. “You're very picky – which makes me feel honoured that I'm to your taste.” His heart beat quickly as he stole a quick kiss, still feeling self-conscious to do this out in public, despite already having kissed Charles _'on TV'_ so to speak. “But why don't you oversee the catering to occasions like this – art-show-openings for your sister, I mean?”

 

Charles looked at Erik like he was speculating if he could get second helpings, but then he answered his question instead. “Because we promised I wouldn't cook for her events and she wouldn't have her art in any of my restaurants. We didn't want to feel obliged to each other, so we simply set the rules early on.”

 

“But you have her art hanging on the walls at home.”

 

“Yes. But that's it, at home, in private.”

 

“Oh, okay. I see now. So you and Raven didn't want...”

 

“What didn't I want?” Raven was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a long top with wide flowing sleeves. “Hello Charles, Erik, good of you to have made it.” She hugged Charles and gave her brother a peck on the cheek.

 

“We were just talking about our arrangement not to mix our professional lives. Anyway, it is much more enjoyable to come to your exhibitions purely as a guest.”

 

“Oh, I know you...” She looked questioningly at Erik. “Has he been complaining about the food?”

 

Erik shook his head but hid a smile. “No he hasn't.”

 

Raven looked unconvinced. “What was I expecting, asking your boyfriend.”

 

Charles grinned. “I really wasn't, merely giving a hint of well meant criticism. But anyway, we aren't here for the food but your art.” That had Raven beaming again.

 

“Have you seen my special wall yet? Even if there won't be much to see until later.”

 

“Where? We haven't completely got round the whole gallery yet.”

 

“It's back there.” She pointed behind herself. “You can't miss it. It's still empty – and it's confusing people to no end. We put a couch opposite it and looks like some people are wondering if it's some sort of modern-art installation.” Her expression was full of mischief.

 

“From the look on your face I would guess it isn't. And unless you've painted the couch in some way or managed to incorporate it into your artworks, it doesn't sound like what I've been seeing of you so far.” Erik put in and Charles added, “But people should know your style by now.”

 

Raven laughed. “Yes, one would think so. Even your boyfriend manages to get what I do despite having only been to one of my exhibitions.”

 

Erik smiled. “Well I see your pictures at home every morning.” 

 

The look of surprise let Erik realise how he'd just phrased that and he wondered if Charles had ever told his sister about Erik moving in. “I mean... Charles'...”

 

“I told you we moved into my apartment together.” He put his arm around Erik's waist.

 

“Oh yes, I remember. I just thought maybe you would have redecorated.”

 

They actually had talked about it, but Erik liked Charles' place the way it was and in the end they had just gotten another bookshelf to join the one in the living-room to fit in Erik's books and DVDs (which had prompted Charles to rearrange the shelves and his and Erik's things were now mixed up together there). Also some of Erik's decorations had been put up here and there plus Charles had declared he liked Erik's bedside lamp better, so they had thrown Charles' own out in the end. So nothing had changed that drastically, except maybe: “Not that much, no. The biggest change is in the spare room upstairs Charles used as an office to write his books.” Erik offered tentatively.

 

“It's more Erik's office now. Perhaps you want to visit and take a look. Erik has some photos of different European architecture and designs hung up there. You might find it inspirational.” Charles put in.

 

“I try not to work at home if I can avoid it, but sometimes it's good to have a place to go when inspiration strikes at odd hours.”

 

“Sure, I'd love to come over. Perhaps we could make this a thing, since I can't get my brother to see me anymore for coffee as he is so busy with you. “ Arms crossed, she looked at them both but then a grin lit up her face.

 

Charles looked sheepish. “I'm sorry Raven, I really didn't mean to neglect you.”

 

Erik was feeling guilty too. “I'd like to get to know your sister better!”

 

Raven grinned. “That's settled then. But Erik, could I just have a short moment alone with my brother right now?”

 

“Of course, I'll just...”

 

“Know what, why don't you take a look around and in...” Raven glanced at her watch. “Twenty minutes be at the couch, then my special art-piece will go up! And don't be shy to SIT on the couch too, that's what it's there for.”

 

“All right.” Erik nodded, then looked at Charles. He hesitated, fully aware of Raven's presence, but he didn't just want to turn his back on his boyfriend and take a stroll on his own. 

Charles seemed less worried about his sister watching and pulled Erik close, kissing him full on the mouth. “Don't get up to anything naughty without me – like get dragged away by one of the artists to model for them.”

 

Raven chimed in. “Yes, always remember, those artists might promise you the moon and stars but only my brother will make his delicious chocolate-strawberry-dessert for you.”

 

Erik laughed. “No need to worry, nothing can sway me from Charles and dessert.”

 

Charles' expression made it clear that he caught the pun. Pleased, Erik turned around and made his way through the exhibition. He drifted this way and that but the pieces that interested him had people blocking the view and he didn't want to force himself in there amidst the crowd. He hoped to maybe spot Angel. Despite her having been Charles' girlfriend and the two of them not parting on the best of terms, she had been friendly enough. He wasn't sure if she would care to talk to him now, knowing he was with Charles, but at least he would like to compliment her on her part in today’s' Gesamtkunstwerk of the exhibition-opening. 

 

He finally reached the purported 'special' wall. He could see how it might confuse people into thinking it to be some kind of modern art. There were nails arranged in an apparently random pattern along the wall. Erik stood back to look at them and smiled. Though irregular in the way they were nailed in, there were never two nails in close proximity to each other, so Erik guessed that maybe Raven would simply hang up some more pictures here... perhaps they would all fit together and make one giant piece of art. One that would be perfectly viewable from the couch opposite it. 

 

The cream-coloured leather couch stood against the wall, but despite it looking rather inviting all the people seemed to eye it warily and no-one dared sit on it. Two people discussed it's meaning in an affected manner, trying to sound like experts but merely coming off as rather snobbish to Erik. Erik was well tempted to just go and sit on it. But then the spell might be broken and he'd rather wait for that till shortly before Raven would reveal what she meant with the nails on the wall. Also he feared, if he sat down now, someone else would want to take a seat too and the couch did seem barely large enough for two or three people. 

 

“You look like you are in on the joke.” Someone beside him said in a mellow voice.

 

Erik looked to his side, to find an elderly man studying his face. The man was about Erik's height. His hair (and short beard) was already white but still full and he wore it long enough to run his hand through. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief and a likewise impish smile played around his thin lips. 

 

Erik grinned. “Maybe I am. Are you an friend of Raven's?”

 

“Well you will find everyone here tonight claiming to be a friend of Raven's, so I'd rather put it a little differently, I have been more of a guiding force – or tried to be, anyhow.”

 

Erik frowned but found the other man's way of formulating things rather engaging. “So you mean to say, you are her teacher?”

 

“Was, more like it. At art-school, yes. Insofar that you can teach art. But Raven, I found, has really a unique way of seeing things, though she took a different path from what I teach in my classes. My field lies in working with metals, creating sculptures.” 

 

“So you are familiar with Raven's... ideas.” He gestured vaguely toward the couch, that – to Raven's amusement – people thought to be a part of the exhibition.

 

“Her streak of mischief you mean? Yes I do.”

 

Erik chuckled and nodded. “Do you tend towards the abstract or more lifelike sculptures yourself?” It sounded interesting how someone would choose to use something as unyielding as metal, something that was used to keep houses and buildings from collapsing in on themselves, and bend and look soft like clay. 

 

“Well, that depends on how you define the abstract. But Raven has actually used one of my artworks as a base for one of hers. Would you like to see it?”

 

“Yes of course. Oh, and by the way, my name is Erik Lehnsherr.” He held out his hand.

 

The man smiled and took Erik's hand in a warm grasp. “You can call me Max.”

 

Max let go of Erik's hand and put his on Erik's shoulder instead to steer him through the throng of people. In a sort of alcove in the gallery hung a huge picture. The photograph part showed a workshop that actually wasn't what one would typically associate with art. There were big workbenches with heavy tools and a welding device and somehow Erik was more reminded of construction sites with all the metal in different shapes lying about. Amidst it all stood a sculpture, larger than men, though it itself embodied one. It was a strange thing, made up out of discs and balls of metal all welded together. It was missing its arms and part of the back of its neck though that seemed intentional. The head was tilted back to look up and where the roof of the workshop would have been Raven had torn a hole into the photo and filled it with a swirling vortex of blue green and black that seemed to suck you in. Erik shivered, the picture somehow sent goosebumps down his back.

 

“Impressive. Your artwork – and what Raven made of it.”

 

Max had been watching him closely. “Yes, she always had an eye for detail. Speaking of, sadly it's not visible here, but the discs the figure is made of actually are polished so they reflect the light.”

 

“Incredible.” Erik leant closer to see if he could catch a glimpse of that.

 

“Mhmmm...quite.” He'd only just noticed the pleased purr that had crept into Max's voice. “Tell me, Erik, have you ever modelled for an artwork before?”

 

Startled, Erik turned towards Max. He thought the man was teasing but he looked serious and a warm smile played around his lips. “What? No...”

 

“Well then, would you do me the honour of letting me capture your body in metal?”

 

xxx

 

Charles had watched Erik head into the crowed before he turned towards Raven, who was looking at him. “Really Charles, I'm kind of glad you didn't tell me that he left you without a note when it happened.”

 

Charles wasn't sure if he should frown or smile, so he went for both. “Why?”

 

“Because I would have made sure to be there when he got back. Then I would have kicked his ass so he would have gone flying straight back to Europe for breaking your heart. And because I would have been wrong about it.”

 

“Well, then I'm glad I didn't. Erik leaving then – it hurt. But I know why he did it now and also that he will never do something like it again. I think it brought us closer together in the end.”

 

“I can see that. In the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. I'm glad this is working out for you. There was a reason why I always tried to set you up with someone. I think someone who is so committed to his work like you, could easily get lonely. And since I no longer am there to look after my big brother, I need someone else to take on the job.”

 

“You make it sound like some sort of tedious labour!”

 

“I am proud to be your sister Charles, but sometimes you can be barely tolerable.”

 

“You were the one who always wandered around the apartment naked, scaring friends – and business associates!”

 

“Don't exaggerate. That only happened once and I didn't know you or anyone was still at home. Anyway you always got near-hysterical when I wanted to use the kitchen for mixing colours...”

 

“When I needed to test a new recipe.” 

 

They stared at eachother, then started laughing.

 

xxx

 

Charles sat on the leather couch and waited. It was time. Raven had accompanied him here and then left him with a enthusiastic spring in her steps. He had actually thought he would find Erik already waiting, but now he was nowhere in sight. But Charles was determined to keep the place next to himself free for Erik. Charles leant forward, resting his arms on his knees, trying to not look up and down the room. 

 

“Look, there is still some room left for us on the mysterious couch.”

 

Charles looked up to defend the place when he saw the man, grey hair wearing pale jeans and a black jacket with what looked like metallic threads woven into the fabric to make it shimmer slightly. He was familiar. Those blue eyes sparkling with mischief. But before Charles could place him his gaze fell on the man's companion – Erik! 

 

And then it hit him. This was one of Raven's professors from art school and he had – a reputation! Had actually tried to flirt with Charles on one occasion but he had turned him down after Raven warned him.

 

And now he had his hand at Erik's waist like it belonged there. Charles clenched his teeth and looked up at Erik. There was a mix of relief and amusement on Erik's face when he spotted Charles. He looked a little overwhelmed maybe, but not in any danger of beeing swept off his feet and turned model-muse-and something else by the artist – or so Charles hoped. Charles suppressed the urge to surge up from his seat and pull Erik away. Instead he raised an eyebrow at Erik. “Erik, I thought you wouldn't make it!”

 

“Well Max here showed me a photo Raven took of his work for her own art.”

 

Max looked from Charles to Erik, but didn't seem troubled in the least. “Well then, lets enjoy what Raven has in store for us.” To Charles he said: “You are her brother, am I remembering correctly?” And before Charles could protest Max planted himself right on the couch beside him. It was wide enough for two people, three if they squeezed in together.

 

“Yes. But, actually... Erik...” He thought of scooting over to make some space for Erik beside him, but then he would be squeezed in between him and Max and he just couldn't have that. But there was always the armrest. “Erik why don't you...”

 

“Don't worry, an exquisitely graceful creature like Erik certainly can sit up there behind me.” Max gave Erik's leg a short pat.

 

Charles' gaze narrowed. He looked past Max to Erik, who had followed up on the offer and was balancing with ease on the backrest of the couch. Erik caught him looking and gave him a helpless smile and shrug. Erik braced himself on an arm so he was basically sitting behind Max, which also brought him closer to Charles. Charles let himself fall back against the backrest and put his arms on it, easily touching Erik's hand with his left. Erik smiled at him and moved his fingers so their hands were locked together. The touch made Charles relax a little. He and Raven should have put more emphasis on telling Erik not to be too friendly with artists...

 

“So do you know what your sister has in store for us, or are you as clueless as we are?”

 

Charles had to tear his eyes away from Erik. “She didn't tell me, no. She likes to be mysterious about her plans.”

 

“I think we will see her put up some more of her artwork, but I guess the individual pieces will make up something bigger.” Erik offered which had Max crane his neck back to look at him. “Handsome and clever, I like that.”

 

Erik seemed embarrassed - and flattered. It made Charles seriously consider trying to drag Erik from his perch right into his lap.

 

“And here she is!” 

 

Raven demanded their attention as she came in, carrying a framed picture and putting it up on one of the nails. People went quiet around them and started to watch. One of the waiters fetched a ladder and put it up to one side. 

 

Max tilted his head back to look at Erik. He said something there even Charles, sitting beside him, could not catch. Erik leant down, closer to Max and by the smile the older man showed, that was exactly what he had aimed for. He touched Erik's shoulder casually while he repeated what he'd said. 

 

Whatever it was, it made Erik grin.

 

Charles wanted to throw himself between the two. But he knew that would be overly dramatic. He forced himself to look straight ahead at where Raven was putting up picture after picture, but it was hard for him to concentrate on what they showed. Despite Max having a reputation, Charles knew Erik, he would never be ensnared by the man. Though that didn't mean he wasn't charmed. Charles glanced over again, in time to catch Erik blushing, because Max had tilted his head back again so it was nearly in Erik's lap. And despite Erik's very red face he had his free hand on Max's shoulder. 

 

But in that moment Erik's hand squeezed his a little tighter and he looked at him and smiled and it was truly so much more than the grin he had shown Max that Charles managed to find a bit of calm again.

 

Xxx

 

Everyone was clapping as Raven hung the final picture and the whole ensemble became clear. It was like a fantastic skyline made up of different photos that went perfectly together. This 'city' was crumbling at its edges though, giving way to forests and meadows. Moving through it all were arteries of paint that highlighted connections and differences in the photographs blending city and nature perfectly together. Charles really hoped this would never be sold individually – or to a private collector. This art-piece should be put on a huge wall for many people to see.

 

Charles had let go of Erik's hand so they both could stand up and give Raven the standing ovation that was her due. As he finally turned toward Erik, Max had beat him to it.

 

“Well it was nice getting to know you, Erik.”

 

Max reached out his hand and Erik took it – and suddenly was being pulled closer and kissed on the mouth. He blinked, surprised.

 

“If you ever change your mind, Raven can give you my contact details. Nice seeing you again, Charles.” And with that he disappeared into the crowed. 

 

Charles put his arms around Erik and pulled him close. “About whatever this is – modelling, playing his muse, being his boyfriend – don't change your mind!”

 

“I'm sorry Charles...”

 

For a moment Charles felt panicky. “What!?”

 

Erik laughed. “God you're not really thinking. No, sorry Charles I apparently was too friendly with him.” He shook his head. “I told him I couldn't model for him since I simply don't have the time between my boyfriend and work. I thought that made it clear that I'm spoken for already. He continued to be charming but really not in any way offensive. He was simply friendly.”

 

“He made you blush. He touched you – a lot.” Charles cringed a little at how possessive he sounded, but he couldn't help it. 

 

“He did? Well, he is – a bit overwhelming I guess. But he commented on us holding hands behind his back. That made me blush.”

“He saw that and still...?” Charles tried to catch a glimpse of the man in the crowd, but he truly had disappeared from sight. Instead he remembered Raven's words, quoting her then-teacher. _'As an artist you have to be first a great observer, only then...'_ Of course he saw and he probably also caught on to how Charles seethed and put on a little extra show – though he surely found Erik alluring in his own right too. Who wouldn't.

 

He caught Erik looking a little worried at him. “I probably acted like a fool. I was flattered – a little, but I didn't think anything by it. Charles, please forg...”

 

Charles shook his head. “No - I'm sorry. I'll stop acting so – possessive now.”

 

Erik smiled and leant closer. “Don't stop.” This time not caring if anyone around them would look or comment, he leant in for a kiss.

 

 

End Epilogue I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a handful ideas, so I guess there will be an Epilogue II.


End file.
